Pure Coincidence
by Yarrie - Water Master
Summary: COMPLETED  Practically kidnapping someone is... not exactly the best way to start off a relationship. Especially if your would-be kidnapper is supposed to be your coworker. Kouzumi
1. Chapter 1

Here we go again.

Kouzumi - government bashing style!

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Chapter 1: An Unwelcome Welcome

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The newspapers were all talking about it.

As if to try to keep Izumi from seeing the much-hated publicity, every staff member tucked their copies away and shredded them if it was necessary to throw the papers out. The alarm went out fifteen minutes in advance that she had arrived at the building. Everyone surreptitiously watched the blond woman walk to her cubicle without killing anyone, and they breathed a sigh of relief. Her hate of the media was just that infamous.

No one realized that she already knew.

Izumi scoffed slightly. Well, fine. She'd feed their little delusion for a little while longer.

The room with all of the offices was surprisingly large for how cramped it felt. Whoever designed the space obviously put too many dividers in there, because when Izumi stretched out to her full five feet eight inches, her head and toe would hit the walls. Except for a tiny desk, a laptop, and a single square foot of corkboard, no one ever thought to squeeze more decorations in. At one point there had been a petition to paint the drab gray walls, but the superiors shot it down faster than a speeding bullet. So, they were stuck with the most boring cubicles in the world, not that the repetitiveness really bothered Izumi.

Why would it? She was gone half the time anyway.

Carefully ensconced away at her little desk, the woman pulled out a thick suitcase of wires and files. She didn't have much equipment, but what little she had was quite heavy. And underneath it all was a thick batch of paperwork.

Ah, yes, the highlight of a government worker's day. Paperwork, wherefore dost thou come?

Izumi tapped her pen impatiently as she scanned the documents. Most of them were absolutely redundant – the same information coming and going to different sources – while the rest were just as absolutely useless. What did she care if they had a shortage of post-it notes? Takuya was probably just making a sculpture again.

She did have to wonder, though, why the technology specialist was getting this kind of grunt work. Did they seriously think that she had all the time in the world when there were no cases pending for her?

Well, they were probably right. Or they would have been right if they would just stop sending her these massive piles of forms.

By lunchtime, she was only halfway done.

Two minutes after Izumi started her break, she was called out again to her supervisor's office. She glowered. Was ten minutes of delicious nothingness just too much to ask?

Apparently so. Junpei Shibayama was still growling at someone over the phone when she came in. Izumi felt a spark of gratitude for him. No one else seemed to care that she had just been on a case for two solid weeks and needed a break from it all.

He hung up and stared at her forlornly. Izumi smiled to show that she didn't expect him to be successful anyway.

"How are you, Orimoto?"

"I'm fine, sir."

That didn't seem to be the right response, because he dragged his hand through his hair. "Fine enough for another case?"

"If I have to. Sir."

He groaned. "And you'll have to. Report to Ophan's office."

"Yes sir." She walked out of the door, but not before saying, "And, your tie, sir."

Shibayama stared down and turned a bright red. "Oh. Thanks."

Izumi smiled and walked away. Ophan had her office far from the rest of the workers, but that didn't stop any of them from visiting her on their off hours. She was a sweet woman, almost like a mother figure. Consequently, she was able to guilt everyone into doing all sorts of things, just like a real mother.

Izumi knocked on the door and waited until a soft voice said, "Door's open."

The blond woman at the desk tapped her perfectly manicured nails on the arm of her chair. Izumi smiled at her and Ophan smiled back, a little wearily. That was the first red flag – no matter what, Ophan tried to be eternally optimistic and supportive, but today she seemed to lose her customary cheerfulness.

"Yes, ma'am?" Izumi urged questioningly.

"Hello, Izumi. I suppose you've read the papers." Right down to business. Another red flag.

"Yes," she scowled. "Where did they get all that classified information?"

Ophan rubbed her temples and sighed. "I'm not sure. We may have a snitch on our hands."

"Again? Didn't we encrypt all of the databases last time?"

"Most of them," Ophan said quietly. "But some of the lower branches have less security than we do, and they refused our help, remember?"

"Right. And now they're the primary victims?"

"Correct."

"That's not good. I suppose that I'm here to help them with their firewall, then?"

A wan smile graced the older woman's lips. "No."

Izumi blinked slowly. "No?"

"You, my dear, are going to do some dirty work."

She swallowed hard. "What kind?"

"What else?" Ophan got up and opened the blinds. The sky was dim and overcast. "We're going to set a bait and watch the fireworks."

"Wonderful. When's the fourth of July going to be?"

Ophan returned to her desk and laid her index finger on a thick manila envelope. "It's in your invitation."

"No RSVP?"

"Your attendance is already expected," Ophan said, a little dryly and a little sadly. "Be careful. You're not trained for this kind of work. But the order came from up above. There's nothing I can do about it."

It was a revealing confession, and Izumi held her breath. She had never been expressly told to worry about personal safety before. Whatever was going to happen, it was bound to be serious. "Where do I have to go?"

"The plane ticket is in the packet. Be careful."

Only after leaving the office did Izumi realize that Ophan hadn't answered the question at all.

--

And a good thing that she didn't.

Izumi would have never agreed to come if she had known her fact, she was still in a state of suspended disbelief. "Why are you sending me to Las Vegas? And why to _him_?"

Shibayama grimaced openly and said, "I really am sorry about this, Orimoto."

"But why?"

He opened and closed his mouth. "I think you'll understand once you get to our contact, alright?"

She stared at him and protested weakly, "But sir…"

"It's already decided."

"Yes, sir."

The plane was set to leave later that afternoon. Izumi was partially grateful for the hasty departure. It meant she had less time to stew and bite her nails. And anyways, the paperwork would have to be given to other people now. Izumi wasn't exactly upset about that.

But Las Vegas? Why did she have to go there? She was a _tech specialist_. She could probably do the work from home, if need be. What was so special about that place? Or was it that there was something else to be found there?

Nervously, she balanced the black bag on her knees. She was going to get her answers soon anyway. Why not take a nap?

Unfortunately, her nerves protested and protested. Instead of getting some well-deserved rest, Izumi ended up opening the elliptical window and watching the clouds. While it was hard to enjoy flying when she had no idea what was waiting for her at the end of the trip, Izumi could still appreciate the blueness of the sky and the faint wispy white clouds that hung just below the plane. Beautiful.

It calmed her down enough to take a nap, but she didn't, because the flight attendant came by with food and drinks. Izumi contented herself with a little box of apple juice, feeling like a kid again.

The rest of the flight was spent in silence, reading through the entire file so that she wouldn't have to do it later.

Whether it actually sank in remained to be seen.

The airport was, as always, a crowded place. People were swarming everywhere, trying to get to wherever they were going. Izumi walked out as soon as she could. Something that she had learned from many years of traveling was that the luggage claim took up quite a bit of time, so as long as she managed to avoid checking in suitcases, she would avoid the rush.

Mostly.

There was a line of cabs waiting outside and Izumi went to the first one that she saw.

It was a pale yellow color, and the triangular sign at the top was a bland advertisement for such and such company. She walked straight up to it and driver looked at her through the window.

A chill went down her spine. The figure sitting in the front was fairly tall, with an angular face structure. His body was all sharp edges, perfectly balanced on the edge of the window. Good looking, yes. Very. The irresponsible part of her whimpered delightedly, but the rest of her screeched to a halt. This man absolutely glowed with something dangerous.

She opened her mouth and was surreptitiously silenced by the sight of a gun in his hands. It was placed right at the windowsill so that only she could see it. "Get in," he mouthed.

Izumi nodded slowly. At point blank range like this, it was obvious who had the advantage here. All thoughts of her job vanished in the wake of a threat to her life. No matter how much Izumi cared about her country's successes or failures, she couldn't be bothered to die for it meaninglessly. She got into the car slowly, holding the bag tightly against her stomach.

They pulled out of park and smoothly glided along the road.

Izumi slid her hands into the bag.

The man in the front suddenly reached back and pointed the gun at her face again. "Wouldn't do that if I were you, girly."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? You're going to kill me after going through all the trouble of getting me in the car?"

The sharp bark of laughter surprised her. "Guts, you got them. Brains, not so much."

Izumi gritted her teeth, tightly. Let him think whatever he wanted. In the meantime, her right hand went into the bag and fingered her cell phone.

They were underground for now, so even if she tried to call 911 it would be difficult to find reception. But Izumi wasn't planning on doing something like that anyway. It would take too much time to mess with the middleman. Instead, she pushed several of the buttons, changing the phone's signal until it matched perfectly with the radio frequency of a police car.

If worst came to worst, this would let her get into contact with law enforcement. Until then, Izumi was going to take advantage of the situation and learn everything she could about what was going on.

The driver suddenly made a sharp turn and went into a tunnel. Izumi hissed, curling around her bag so that nothing inside would be damaged. Inwardly, she cursed. If the car stayed underground like this, she wouldn't be able to get a message to anyone even with the aid of her modified cell phone. Briefly Izumi wondered if she had misread her kidnapper. Maybe he _was_ going to kill her. She discarded the idea almost right away. If he had been planning something like that, why not find a less risky place to do it?

And besides…she had seen his eyes. A sociopath, maybe, but not a killer.

"Step out," she heard him say. Izumi started to cling to the bag, and he actually smirked. It was dark, her cell phone emitted a soft light and she paled. So he had noticed it after all.

Izumi did her best imitation of a meek, helpless girl. "Ye-yes, sir."

"You should stop," he said suddenly, voice no longer rough and guttural. She looked up with confusion, realizing that he wasn't that much taller than her. Not that it was a surprise; Izumi had a good height for a girl. That made her grimace slightly in annoyance. It was so much easier for small, diminutive people to fake fear.

"S-stop what, sir?"

Something clicked in the darkness and the barrel of the gun pointed directly at her forehead. "You know, for someone in the business, you're not very good at lying."

Her eyes went wide. In the business? Did that mean…? "So it's you."

The gun still didn't move. "Of course."

It was dark, and she couldn't tell what he was doing, but the same went for him. Quickly, Izumi grabbed her watch and broke the top off. A short blade sprung up and she held the edge right where his neck was.

There was a tense, surprised silence. Then, speaking slowly so that the blade wouldn't cut in, he said, "I hear your name is Orimoto." There might have been a hint of grudging respect in his voice.

"Depends on who's asking," she replied, warily. A gun versus a knife; she still had the disadvantage. But it wasn't as bad as before.

"I'm Kouji Minamoto. KM works fine."

"You already know about me." At the same time, they dropped their weapons. "Pleased to be working with you."

"Likewise. Welcome to Sin City."

And that was that. The ride to the listed address was incredibly normal compared to the first half of the journey. Izumi leaned her head against the car window, wondering why she always ended up with the psychos. And then, mulling over strange men with blue eyes and black hair, she fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

You know, I wrote this in a day. I edited this in three weeks. Why the hell is that.

T rating for language.

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Chapter 2: Cat and Mouse, Mouse and Cat

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When Izumi opened her eyes again, she saw a dim room with pale cream walls and a small, twin-sized mattress. It was...surprisingly innocuous for a Las Vegas apartment. She rubbed her eyes, and immediately wondered where her equipment was. A bundle of nervous energy got her out of bed, but it was too early to do anything but wander around aimlessly. Because of that, Izumi got to enjoy a brief tour of the apartment before she came upon a laptop computer lying carelessly out in the hallway. A very familiar laptop computer.

_Her_ laptop computer. Quickly, she booted it up, checking all of her files for signs of tampering.

Behind her, someone coughed.

She looked over her shoulder and glared. "KM. What were you doing with my computer?"

The man was holding a plate with…ice cream? The sight startled Izumi – after all, only minutes before she had fallen asleep, he had been pointing a gun at her head. Now, with the sugary treat in hand, he looked almost normal. Even the atmosphere around him wasn't quite as threatening. "Standard identity check. Making sure you were who you claimed to be."

She stared. "You hacked in?"

"Was going to." KM sat down, not seeming to care that he had just broken a dozen rules of protocol. A loose white polo shirt covered his chest but the sleeves were ripped off, and he wore khaki pants that hung over his bare feet like a poncho. It was only then that she realized just how long his hair was. For all its advantages, complete darkness wasn't very good for observation.

And yes, he was still gorgeous. Izumi growled to herself at the thought. Good looks were always wasted on awful men.

KM suddenly tapped his ice cream bowl with the spoon. "Do you know why I'm here?"

She looked up from where she was busily reorganizing the files around and assigning new passwords to everything. "Because you like to screw with us?" she asked, bitingly.

He gave her a smirk in reply. "Besides that."

"Then no. I wasn't aware that you had another reason for helping us on this case." Izumi let that hang for a minute, not so subtly implying that it didn't matter to her.

"The government gave me an offer I couldn't refuse." He shrugged. "Not my fault."

"I didn't think you were that useful," she said tightly.

KM looked at her with smug, hooded eyes. "I didn't think you were that gullible."

She sucked in a deep breath and sighed. "Excuse me for that. How did you know that I was going to get out of the airport first?"

He shrugged. "Lucky guess."

"Right."

KM suddenly kicked his legs out and turned all the way around so that he was actually lying upside down. The ice cream in his hand was still perfectly balanced on the plate. "Orimoto, this is Las Vegas. If you're down on your luck, you're screwed."

"So I'm screwed?" Izumi scoffed in disbelief.

He stared at her with a raised eyebrow. "You would have been, if I was an ordinary con artist."

"But you're not," she muttered. Of course not. If Izumi hadn't known his history so well, she would have blamed _him_ for the database disasters, but…it wasn't the kind of thing he would do. KM never left that kind of paper trail. He was good enough to lead them on a hopeless chase for the rest of eternity.

But instead, he was helping them.

Why?

As if he sensed the unspoken question, the man turned around and smirked at her. His entire expression screamed _Wouldn't you like to know?_

Izumi bit her lip. There was just something about him that caught your eye and wouldn't let go. It was no surprise that KM could trap even the most careful people into trusting him. Izumi herself wasn't completely immune, but her resistance was good enough for now. Hopefully. After looking away, she tried to refocus on the computer screen. Work first. Work always came first.

Her stomach protested, so Izumi revised that thought. Food first. Food always came first.

A light clattering sound to the left made her jump. A plate of blueberry pancakes landed next to her knee. Izumi looked up at the dark-haired man, wonderingly, only to find that he had apparently made an entire table and chair set appear that she couldn't remember seeing before. It was disorienting, to say the least.

"Are you coming?" he asked, motioning to the other chair.

Izumi blinked, then sighed, "I guess." Then she took a bite. Crunch, crunch. Mmm. Stop. Stare. "Did you make this?"

"Sure. Don't like going to the store."

She wanted to hit herself for asking such a stupid, inconsequential question. Really. There wasn't any time to talk about cooking, even if the food was delicious. Which it was. She ate the pancakes slowly and watched her colleague drip melted ice cream into his mouth like a little kid. It was disturbingly domestic.

KM left the room after a while, but when he returned, there was a thickly wired machine under his arm. He opened up the top, and Izumi realized with a shock that it was actually a heavily modified computer. There were so many connections that it looked more like two hard drives welded together than anything else, especially since there was no keyboard. KM hummed lightly as the machine whirled to life, but put most of his attention into tying a dark blue bandanna over one eye.

Izumi watched, more than a little puzzled. The black screen was completely empty of everything…except a single sentence that said, "We are born to live, but we live to die." She grimaced slightly, not at all surprised to find something morbid like that on his computer. Click, click, click. He suddenly began tapping his fingers rapidly on the two buttons. A stream of numbers filled the screen like ants, one after another after another in a seemingly endless march of zeros and ones. It looked completely meaningless until Izumi realized that he was typing an exact transcription of that sentence in binary code. As soon as he stopped, the screen downsized and she was left staring at a completely normal start up menu. Her temporary partner turned his head and looked at her mockingly.

She finally asked, "That's your password?"

His shoulders and chest trembled, just a bit. After that brief show of restraint, KM threw his head back and laughed viciously. "That's not the half of it. The sentence changes every two minutes. And you have to get the entire sequence of binary code in thirty seconds or the system goes into lockdown. Think you can do that?"

Izumi glared and hissed, "You're pretty confident, aren't you? Telling me these things?"

The smirk widened. "Of course. We're working together, aren't we."

"Don't."

"Hm?"

"Don't play innocent with me. I won't be your pawn, understood?"

His eyes turned serious so quickly that Izumi felt disoriented. "Likewise. I don't work for the government. You'd best remember that."

For some reason, Izumi didn't feel the least bit threatened. She just _knew_ that KM wouldn't do any extra work unless the fate of the world was at stake. Maybe not even then. That was a pretty scary thought, but also gratifying...because she wouldn't have to prevent him from overstepping his bounds as a temporary agent. It didn't suit KM to 'help' them any more than he had already agreed to. He was too calculating and frugal with his energy for that. As long as the government made it easy for him to sit back and relax, the man was somewhat controllable. She hoped to hell that she would be long gone if he ever decided to rampage.

The database finally loaded, so Izumi moved on to the first step of their plan. Setting up a trap via security firewalls was complicated in and of itself, but trying to do it without breaking a single law took even more time and effort. It was roughly the equivalent of setting mouse traps without cheese. Izumi considered herself fairly talented - but there were others still better who were working for the other side.

Like the man right next to her.

KM, who also called himself Grey and Kendo and who knows what else. KM, who could take down just about anyone he didn't like and build them back up again if he was feeling magnanimous. Izumi was torn between respect and disgust for him. Working in the same room as him for so long was definitely not helping her decide which was stronger.

After a few hours of uninspired codework, Izumi finally felt confident enough to ask, "Do you know what the hacker wants?"

"Hacker?" His voice was distant. "That's an insult. He's not a hacker."

"Why?"

A dull, tense silence shimmered in the air, but he answered the question with a surprising amount of patience. "He broke a lot of long-standing rules."

"Hackers have rules?" Izumi turned around and stared at KM's ear, because his eyes remained firmly trained on the computer screen.

"Of course." When KM paused and typed something on his machine, Izumi decided to wait a day or two before asking for an explanation. To her surprise, however, he turned around and willingly elaborated, "It's more of a pride thing, actually. But that guy…he just went in and wrecked a few spreadsheets. Isn't that it?"

She bit back her protests and said, "I think so."

"Well, it's hardly anything to brag about. But he leaked the story to the media anyway. It's just attention whoring. He did the wrong thing for the wrong reason, and that's the real problem."

"So, I suppose it's not a problem that we got hacked." Izumi stared determinedly at her screen, not wanting to listen to him anymore.

KM suddenly grabbed her shoulder. It was just fast enough to catch the blond woman off guard and pin her to the wall. "Listen," he said in a slow, monotonous drawl, "I'm not here to listen to your self-righteous prattle. You asked, I answered."

"What kind of answer is that? He deliberately sabotaged government data – "

"And what does it matter?" He shook her a little. "We're hackers. We do it for the sake of proving that we can. Because it's enjoyable. That's not too much to ask, is it?"

"And for the sake of your egos, you'll scam innocent people? Hex our archives? Mess with satellite orbits? Shut down radio signals for entire cities?"

"Why not?" His other arm went around her and slammed against the wall. Their faces were only inches away from each other. "If we weren't here, would you be?"

She stared at him. "Are you seriously telling me that you hack for the sake of giving my people _job security_?"

"Not exactly," he admitted, "But it's human nature. We see a challenge, we take it. Just like you."

"And how, exactly, do you think that you're any different from our target? Isn't he doing the exact same thing?"

He groaned. "You don't get it. We know that it's possible to hack into the government system. That's why no one does it anymore."

"So. Attention whoring, as you so nicely put it, is worse than hurting people?" Her voice was quivering with frustration. "The world doesn't revolve around you, you know!"

"So what? You think that the rest of the world is any better than us? What about the documents that your government has been so carefully hiding, hm? Is it moral and right for them to cover up three prison breaks just so that they could salvage their own pitiful reputations?"

"You hypocrite," she hissed. "Don't switch sides just to save yourself! If there's nothing wrong with hacking, then why are you hunting this guy down?"

"I didn't say that there's nothing wrong with it," he retorted. "I said that it's stupid trying to be moral when no one else is – you know what, forget this."

He was gone before she knew it. Trembling, Izumi rubbed her shoulder where he had grabbed her and slid down the door.

The door suddenly slammed, and she winced slightly.

Three hours without fighting. It was probably a miracle that the peace had lasted even that long. Izumi pulled her knees up against her chest and wondered where he was going – before she realized that it was a stupid question to ask. Sin City _was_ Sin City, after all. No doubt there was plenty for someone like KM to do.

Perhaps he was drinking. Or visiting the women. Or cheating someone out of their money. Sudden realization had her sitting upright, momentarily stunned. Of course. He was a con artist; that was probably exactly what he planned to do. And wasn't it her job to prevent things like that from happening around him?

Quietly ignoring her private objections, Izumi got off the floor and ran out of the apartment, only stopping to take her laptop with her. Holding the machine under her arm was so natural that she couldn't imagine doing anything without it, even if having a computer wouldn't help her at all. In the worst case scenario, KM would still take several minutes to get to the underground parking garage. Izumi would catch up with him easily as long as she ran, and she could do that just fine with or without the laptop.

Izumi slammed her hand on the elevator button, but ended up taking the stairs when it took too long.

She skidded down the steps and nearly fell over twice, because the staircase wasn't exactly well kept. Pieces of rubber were starting to peel off, forming a slippery base to step on. Izumi would have worried more about it if she didn't suddenly realize – that there was a time lapse between her nap in the car and waking up in his bed. So how did she find herself in a room three floors up? Did KM carry her?

The thought made her flush slightly, and being distracted, Izumi almost ran into the door that led to the lobby. The room was fairly dim, even with all of the windows, telling her that it was already late in the evening. The woman sitting at the desk looked up briefly; Izumi walked up to her and asked politely about her runaway partner. The lady blinked, once. Twice. Then she gave Izumi a slow, thoughtful smile. "I think he went outside."

"Just outside?"

The woman nodded and beamed knowingly at her. Izumi flushed, knowing that her question had been completely misunderstood, but left anyway. The more pressing issue on her mind was where KM had gone. The minute she opened the door and started walking off into the street, she had her answer.

They nearly crashed into each other.

As it was, KM had been looking down and not paying much attention to his surroundings, so when Izumi suddenly appeared behind the doorway, it took a bit of tricky maneuvering to keep them both from falling. Izumi rocked on the balls of her feet, and slammed against the wall. KM ended up going the other way, halfway sprawled on the sidewalk.

They stared at each other.

Izumi slowly rose up against the wall and hesitantly asked, "You okay?"

KM snapped back to reality and practically jumped up as if the ground had scalded him. "Yeah." Rearranging the bandanna that had fallen halfway off his head, he offered her a subtle grin. His one visible eye was glimmering in the soft light. "Why exactly are you here?"

"You kind of ran out of the room."

"Oh." He blinked long eyelashes against his cheek. "You're brilliant, by the way."

"Huh?"

"Running out of my apartment when you don't have the key to get back in. Absolutely brilliant."

"You're pretty brilliant too. Running out of your apartment and leaving someone who doesn't really like you inside. Alone." She tried not to feel embarrassed about going after him. Even if it was just for work, Izumi wondered why just being around the man made everything seem so convoluted and straightforward at the same time. They stood on the sidewalk, overlooking streets that finally resembled the Las Vegas of her imagination, complete with fluorescent neon bulbs. She stared at the light show for so long that KM had to get her attention with a soft cough.

"You ever been here before?"

"No," she shook her head. "This is my first time."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you're planning on working the entire time?"

"I don't gamble."

"Oh? Not the betting type?"

Izumi stared at him. "I prefer to keep my job, thanks."

His lips quirked, somewhat disappointedly. "Pity, that." KM took a long look at the skyline, before turning around and nodding to her. "Let's go."

She paused and looked back over her shoulder. "You first. I kind of want to watch."

Instead of leaving, KM casually dropped next to her. The thick curtain of hair over his shoulder shifted around as he tried to find a comfortable position against the glossy black windowpane. "You're not very worried about your safety, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You. Alone. In Las Vegas. Which isn't exactly a tea party."

Izumi wanted to laugh at the almost-joke, but a soft voice in her head that sounded very much like Ophan held her back. Underneath her shirt, she could feel the soothing, leathery edge of a holster. "But it is a party."

"Only if you know how." KM glanced at her. The shadowy window faded into the long strands of black hair that hung just over his forehead, as if he was part of the scenery. Izumi's heart hammered just a little faster in her chest and she quietly cursed her own lack of resistance. "We're already outside. Well?"

It was ridiculously hard to refuse that offer. Izumi laughed at how much she wanted to go, if only to see him in his natural element. Good looks and charisma, what more did you need to become a successful con artist? Absolutely nothing, if his police record could be believed. Izumi wondered why the man wasted so much energy learning how to hack when he was perfectly capable of scamming people without it. Suddenly upset by her own curiosity, she shook the thoughts off and tried to focus on the conversation again.

The man next to her was still waiting for a reply, so she said, "No," unhesitatingly but uneasily.

Unhesitatingly because KM had quite a…talent for manipulating other people's emotions. Izumi had seen dozens of his victims, both recent and past, all reduced to a whimpering pile of depression when he inevitably abandoned them. Her refusal came from pure self-preservation.

Uneasily because she could see something light up in his eyes - something that made her nervous.

Up ahead, the man shrugged, seemingly oblivious to her worries. More than anything else about him, his mood swings were the hardest to understand. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the frenetic energy that pulsed through the city. But no matter how hard she tried to ignore the solid presence to her left, he was resting just a little too close for her to enjoy the view. Finally giving up, she said, "I think I have jet lag. Can we go back?"

Immediately after the words left her mouth, Izumi wondered why she couldn't think of a better, more plausible excuse. KM looked at her doubtfully but said nothing about the obvious lie. Any other time, Izumi would have considered the silence a good thing, but she didn't know what to think anymore. Rationality went on a strike when it came to dealing with him.

They went up the stairs. It was the longest, quietest walk she had ever taken with another person.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm trying my darndest to edit Close enough, but it's not working with me. Hence! This.

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Chapter 3: Reject and Rejection

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The next morning, Izumi woke up to the sound of hissing. A thick steam rose up right next to her, and it was with soft, sleepy eyes that she turned around and saw KM sitting at the foot of the bed. There was a bowl of soup in his hands. "Hey."

"Hey," she said, looking at him blearily. "Time?"

"It's almost eleven," he said, with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "You caught a lot of z's."

She forgot to ignore his teasing because it was early in the morning and he looked so normal. A faint, amused smile curved her lips. As soon as she realized her mistake, Izumi pulled on a neutral mask and looked at him as indifferently as she could. KM's eyes – both of them, because the bandana was gone again – narrowed slightly, but he didn't comment on the sudden change of expression.

Izumi felt a malicious stab of satisfaction at the look of displeasure on his face. It was like taking toys away from a spoiled brat. A spoiled brat with beautiful eyes and too much insensitivity for his own good. He deserved it, didn't he? She almost doubted herself when he looked at her with that considering expression, but the moment of weakness passed quickly. Smoothing away her misgivings, Izumi started getting ready for the day ahead. The suitcase was in the other room, or at least, it _had been_ yesterday.

When she couldn't find it, Izumi put her hands on her hips and looked at KM. "Did you see my bag?"

He looked up from his soup and tilted his head. "Wasn't it next to your laptop?"

"Yeah. Did you move it?"

"It's in the closet…wait – don't…!"

Huffily, Izumi marched over to the other door and wrenched it open, just before his shout of warning rang out. Instantly, an alarm blared and she covered her ears with her hands, wincing in pain. KM ran over to the door and slammed the bottom of his fist into the wooden panel. It fell in, revealing a control panel of sorts. As with his computer, there were only two buttons. He quickly pushed in a code and the blaring alarm shuddered to a stop. Then he whirled around and glared at her.

"I said _wait_. Do you not have ears or something?"

"How was I supposed to know that you had an alarm?"

"Maybe because I'm a criminal and criminals have these sorts of things?" KM reached over with rough hands, running them along the side of her face. Izumi tried to pull back, but he held her there firmly. "You alright?"

"Yes," she managed, throat closing up when his fingers brushed the shell of her ear. After a few seconds under his firm grip, Izumi began to tug back with trembling arms. "KM…"

He stopped, but let his eyes glance over her nightgown-clad figure first. The vibrant blue gaze washed over her like a milky fountain, leaving a bittersweet aftertaste in her mouth. They sat on the ground together, inches apart, for quite some time. The soup was still steaming slightly when KM finally stood up and took it back into his hands. He blew gently on the red-orange liquid and sipped it straight from the bowl. Izumi let her hand touch the tingling skin on the side of her face, and blushed. She didn't look to see if he was watching, but he probably was. She cursed herself for the lapse in judgment. Maybe it was best to leave as soon as possible and find somebody to be her substitute. That would be a lot easier than staying in KM's company.

Company. Just the thought made her shiver all over.

It didn't help to watch KM skillfully undoing the intricate gears behind his closet door. His fingers moved quickly from one side to another, until the low humming sound ended with a sharp click and a dark space was revealed. He dragged her case out with cool, precise movements; she watched him with reluctant admiration for being so damn paranoid.

Eventually, the soreness in her knees directed her back to the task at hand – namely finding something to wear for the rest of the day. Although there wasn't much there in the way of clothing, she _had_ brought a simple outfit of gray jeans and a sleeveless red shirt. She ended up searching for a jacket or something to cover more skin, but it was relatively warm today and she didn't relish the prospect of putting yet another layer of clothing on.

So, sleeveless it was. Izumi gathered the clothes in her arms and turned to ask, "Where's your bathroom?"

KM blinked at her almost harmlessly and waved his hand to the left. "End of that hallway."

She looked back and couldn't help herself: "Is there a lock on the door?"

A deadpan stare was aimed in her direction. Without missing a beat, he said, "You're not my type. Don't worry."

"Wh-what?" Sputtering, Izumi whipped around and glared at him. "What on earth are you talking about?"

He looked away and pointed to the left again. "Just go."

Izumi was too stunned to do anything but obey. In the hallway, stuck in that daze of obedience, she suddenly snapped to attention when a bit of static electricity on the doorknob hit her finger.

It was already starting. The thought horrified her. Her determination to find some way to throw him in jail despite the deal was beginning to waver. Just a little. She patched it up by forcibly recalling every interview she had watched, seeing the women – his women – cry and cry and cry pathetically. After reading up on his file, which ran for pages like an enormous list, there was no way she could forget it. The blush of embarrassment faded into nothingness. Nothingness faded into a blush of rage.

How dare he?

She was not going to lay back and let him walk all over her. Not like some of those girls had. Because he definitely hadn't done anything to deserve it. They were there to work together. That was all.

The shower water was cold, but she barely felt it. In any other situation, this might have been worrying, but Izumi only saw triumph in the gesture.

When she returned to the workroom, laptop in hand, Izumi practically ordered him to keep working.

After that, it was hard to concentrate on the man beside her because she was so busy making selective holes in the security walls. Entire days were spent placing traps so subtly that even a master hacker would have a hard time distinguishing them from simple oversights. It really was against her code of honor to purposefully wreck her employer's security, but they needed certain morsels of information to find their way into the target's hands. She didn't bother to ask if KM knew his apartment was going to be used as a battlefield, on more than one level. In fact, there were operations underway to let the target track them down to this exact location, all in hopes of luring the hacker out of the open. Izumi wasn't very happy with the risk level involved in that particular plan, but if it was necessary, they could do it. For now, KM busied himself with sending her every convenient weak spot in the government defense system that he could find.

Even letting him do this much was hard for her to bear. The longer they worked together, the more she unwillingly respected the man for his practically genius-level abilities.

KM could have done much more serious damage than their target was currently doing to the government data files. It made her grudgingly happy that he was on their side. On the other hand, he was terrible at actually fixing the weak spots. From the brief snatches of conversation that sometimes pulled her in against her better judgment, Izumi learned that his own security system was absolutely _shoddy_.

And she yelled at him for it, not really knowing why. Maybe just to have something rational to yell at him about. "What kind of hacker lets himself get hacked?"

"Not me," he smirked.

"You don't know that." His overconfidence was seriously annoying, but worse yet, she was already getting _fond_ of it. Well, fond enough to shake her head and laugh instead of analyzing every way his carelessness could jeopardize their operation. Izumi didn't want him to catch on to the weakness, even if they did have to get along for the partnership to work out. Relationships made everything much more complicated.

"No one's ever tried."

She kicked her legs up and down, letting them hit the ground and bounce back up. "Probably because they were afraid you'd get them back."

"Exactly." He turned around to face her. The bandana was back over his eye, like it always was when he worked on the computer.

Thoughtlessly, she asked, "Why do you always wear that?"

"The bandana?" KM leaned back and pulled it off slightly. "Because it helps me concentrate. This eye is colorblind."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh."

"Gives me a headache if I use both."

"Oh." Izumi didn't doubt the story at all – KM was, if nothing else, surprisingly honest. But she didn't want to believe it. Normal, inconsequential things just shouldn't happen to sociopaths. And make no mistake, that was exactly what KM was.

He nodded distantly and suddenly whistled. "Oh, wow. Here's a doozy."

"What?"

"You should really talk to your employees, you know?" With a few rapid clicks on his two-button keyboard, he downsized the entire screen. Then he disconnected a piece of the machine: a portable hard drive. "Take a look at this."

Izumi did. At first, the code seemed harmless. That impression didn't last for long when the organization fell into complete shambles halfway through. "What the hell is this?"

"Part of the firewall on the database. You know, the one we're going to use as bait?"

She gaped. "Wait, this wasn't done by a hacker?"

"Could have been," he admitted. "But I've run it through the tracker. The data signature came straight from the government. I could try it again with some other method if you want."

"You..." Izumi stood there, shell-shocked...but maybe she shouldn't have been. It took a great deal of effort to speak calmly. "No, it's fine. I trust you. Mind if I take this to my supervisor?"

He shrugged indifferently. "Why not?"

She opened and closed her mouth, wondering why she had just asked for information that was rightfully hers to begin with, but decided to think about it later, when there wasn't a potential disaster in the making. "Give me a second."

"Or five minutes."

"Shut up," she muttered. The sound of laughter behind her made her throat constrict, but she threw off the feeling long enough to make a very important phone call. "Ophan? I think we may have a problem."

* * *

"You sure about this, Izumi?"

"I'm sure," she nodded. "The original plan was to bug the database and track the information transfer. But we won't be able to do much if the security has already been compromised. There's someone else sabotaging the firewall. And it's not our original hacker."

"Izumi, stop for a minute. What if it's a false alarm? Raising suspicions like this will only make things worse. We've already had some of our best workers leave because of the media reports."

"Search them first. Most of the damage was done a long time ago, back when we first started making the firewalls."

"Izumi…"

"I'm serious, Ophan. I think that whoever it was, they did it on purpose. No one would wreck the code like that accidentally."

"Are you sure that it wasn't KM who did it?"

"What?"

The voice on the other line gave a deep, heavy sigh. "Wasn't he the one who found it?"

She opened and closed her mouth, trembling slightly. Why didn't she think of that possibility? The answer came instantly: because of how careless the damage was. KM was too proud to let himself mess up like that. It was just part of his morally skewed psyche. Izumi explained this haltingly to her supervisor. How could you put a person's soul, their essence, into only a few sentences without meeting them first?

Ophan listened. Then, warningly, she said, "Be careful around him, Izumi."

She swallowed hard. Too late for _that_. "Yes, ma'am."

When she turned off the phone, the man behind her commented, "I'm surprised to hear you defend me, Orimoto."

She glared at him, but felt more relieved than anything that KM wasn't commenting on the sorry state of government affairs. "Only because you're useful. Now get to work."

"I've been working since seven this morning. It's lunchtime."

Izumi blinked slowly in surprise. She hadn't even realized… "Fine. What do you have?"

"Are you kidding me, Orimoto? Where do you think we are?"

"Your apartment?"

"Las Vegas," he corrected. "Now let's go."

"Eh, wait – " KM pulled her away from the computer with a stiff yank. At the doorway, she fumbled with her shoes and just barely got them on when he took a hold of her wrist and led her down. "Where are we going?" she asked self-consciously, already giving up on resistance…for now.

"A restaurant," KM replied. With his other hand he took off the bandana. But he didn't let go of her wrist.

Izumi swallowed hard and tried to focus on the city instead of her companion. In broad daylight, Sin City didn't look like it deserved the name. It was more energetic than a normal city, yes, but nothing too bad. Sunset was probably their equivalent of sunrise.

KM didn't stop at the curb to hail a cab. Instead, he took her down the street at a brisk pace.

"Where are we going?" Izumi asked distractedly, trying to keep up with him

"To eat."

"You're not driving?"

He shrugged. "I don't like to. It bothers my eyes when I have to look at the traffic lights for too long."

"Is that why your room is so…dull?"

"Sure. Easier to deal with."

"Why don't you just make your computer screen black and white?"

"Because sometimes the colors are useful. Like the blue screen of death, you know."

Izumi caught the neat evasion and threw it back in his face. "Oh, really. What's the real reason?"

"Hey, I don't have to tell you."

"Or I could smash your beloved little computer into bits."

KM actually sputtered. "You wouldn't. I have to work with you, remember?"

"Then I'll just lend you one."

"But I don't work well with new computers."

"Deal with it. I'm still waiting for an answer here."

His grip around her wrist tightened slightly. While she couldn't see his face, Izumi could hear the grudging respect and sheepishness in his response. "Well…I'm not very good with hardware. I tried toying with the saturation levels, but the screen was too grainy and I just gave up on fixing it myself. And obviously I don't trust anyone else to touch my computer."

"Ah," she said, satisfied. "So the self proclaimed Hacker God has a weakness after all."

He scoffed quietly. "I don't call myself that. Other people do. Personally, I think it's a gaudy name. They should stop."

Izumi surprised herself by agreeing wholeheartedly.

They stopped by a little corner shop with pastries. His hand was still curled around her wrist, so she gently tugged that arm away. He didn't let go. Flushing brilliantly and hoping that no one was looking at them – not a good chance of that if they were the only customers in the store – she stopped moving away. It was only because she didn't want to cause a scene. Nothing more, nothing less.

The tiny shop had three tables near the windows, but they were so small that sitting _with_ him was practically sitting _on_ him. She forced herself to calm down enough for the blush to be pushed back down.

He ordered an apple turnover with French vanilla whipping. Izumi blinked, reminded once more of what he looked like with a plate of ice cream in his hand. Then she reeled back. Ever since that first day, he had shown no signs of threatening her again, which was suspicious for a criminal. Izumi promised herself to be more careful, immensely grateful for Ophan's timely warning.

KM looked up from the sugary treat and raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to eat anything?"

…Well, she was already out, right? "Maybe a lemon tart."

"Very sour, Orimoto," he said.

She blushed, unable to help it. "Well, I like lemons."

"Ever heard the saying, you are what you eat?"

"Well, you're eating something sweet. Proves the saying wrong, doesn't it?"

The cream-covered fork stopped halfway on its journey to his mouth. Setting it down with a sigh, he murmured, "I guess there's no changing your mind about me, hm?"

"There never was any chance of that." Liar, liar, pants on fire…

KM didn't say anything in response to that. In fact, he didn't say anything at all for the rest of lunch, which was really more of a misplaced dessert. In turn, she didn't make a move to start up a conversation in the silence that suddenly fell over their table. They ate, they paid - with Izumi protesting silently that they would split the bill - and finally, they left. All without saying a single word to each other. KM barely even glanced in her direction.

Izumi told herself that it was a good sign.

In fact, she was still telling herself a few hours later, when they were back in his room coding counter-conspiracies. The process of self-convincing was cut short, however, by the sound of a ringing telephone. She answered the call with a tired "Hello?"

"Izumi, the system just shut down."


	4. Chapter 4

Right, this was originally a lot longer than it is right now. I cut it down to size...which means that you won't get to any angst today. Sadness.

* * *

Chapter 4: Capture the Flag

* * *

"How the hell did your security system let an unauthorized user turn off the central control?"

"I don't know, okay," she snapped back. "I'm not the main technician over there. Never was."

"Why not? You would have done a better job of it."

It was strangely flattering to hear him say that, but Izumi knew that she wasn't all that special. After all, most of the time she was only allowed on the minor cases. Her work was limited to thwarting petty amateurs, not masterminds. "I doubt it."

"I'm serious." He turned her around and looked at her stubbornly. "Pretty sure you're good enough to keep _me_ out."

Now, wait… "You tried hacking into my computer?!"

He sighed and seemed to backpedal. "No, but I've looked over your code. It's not neat enough to break easily. I probably would have taken one look, played around for an hour, and given up."

Izumi gaped at him, at the elegance of his back curling and uncurling against a sofa cushion, and the slender bones of his hand resting on his keyboard. He looked back, perfectly serious.

She swallowed. "For you, maybe. Not that it means anything to my superiors."

"What about you?"

"Huh?" Izumi looked up at him and stared into dark, serious blue eyes.

"Does it mean anything to you?"

She stared at him uneasily. It was just common, everyday praise. Something that you would give any co-worker. Right? "Yes. Thank you."

KM was sitting right next to her with his knees crushed to the plane of his chest, giving him the appearance of wilting flower…or a closed Venus flytrap. The skin of his arm almost brushed against hers, but he didn't make a move to close the gap. Somehow, that peculiar coldness made the distance widen from mere inches to miles. "You're welcome."

A wall of air settled between them. Izumi tucked her knees under her chin, feeling strangely lonely. She shook the bothersome emotion off slowly but surely. There was no way she could put her personal problems over a national disaster. No one else was authorized to control the security system, after all. Another thing that she had KM to thank for: he was somehow connecting to the government's deactivated server and redirecting all the information to her computer. Of course, that meant that every person who was currently accessing the data had to get it through their connection.

Izumi bounced forward on her ankles and grinned, feeling strangely exhilarated by the challenge of picking out just one user out of hundreds without alerting any of them to what she was doing. For the briefest of moments, she understood how KM felt about the thrills of hacking. Wasn't it all the same rush of adrenaline?

The lines on the screen blipped monotonously. She scanned the long list of users, most of whom were just innocent citizens who had logins to the government's website. Of course, to have a login meant you had to be a certain kind of person, but since they weren't there to sabotage anything, Izumi let them be. The users that systematically checked every page were more interesting. There were several of them, so she set trackers on the IDs to record their sessions.

Then she turned her attention to the security wall. It was a complete wreck, for lack of a better word. KM looked over her shoulder and growled quietly, "Of all stupid things to do, that right there is the stupidest."

"Yeah," she muttered. "He just couldn't do things the nice, normal hacker way, right?"

KM stared at her. "Would you stop trying to lecture me? I _know_ it's not the nicest thing to do. I'm trying to help you here."

"Yeah? Well, it's not your job. You're the offense. I'm the defense."

"A good offense is the best defense."

"Not on the internet."

"What about real life?" He stared at her, looking almost like a lost child. Izumi forced herself to turn away.

"We're not talking about real life."

"He'll go straight to the media with those reports. That not real enough for you?"

Her voice was steady despite the undercurrent of uncertainty. "It's none of my business - or yours. I can't get distracted." What a nice evasion! The truth was a bit more pessimistic. She hadn't found the _courage_ to look at the stolen data yet. There was plenty of time to doubt ethics after this job was over, sitting at home with all of the unread newspapers and learning how to distrust everything and everyone.

KM was surprisingly quiet as he watched her work.

Izumi eventually felt the close scrutiny and turned to look at him. "What?"

"Does he always do the same things?"

Blink. Blink. "Huh?"

"He's doing the same things. Over and over. Look! That's the data from the first break in. And this is the data from the second. And third. And now, the fourth." KM sounded just a little disgusted with the discovery, probably offended by the hacker's lack of skill.

Izumi stared at it. "He's using an algorithm."

"Maybe. Or he's just repeating keystrokes."

"KM, you're a genius." Izumi whipped around and gave him a hug, delightedly.

He immediately stiffened and carefully shook her arms off after a while. "Yes, I know," he said, his tone light. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Smile? What smile? It was more like a twist of his lips, a grimace even. Izumi stared at him, confused by the impersonal reaction.

Something hurt in her chest. She rubbed it absently.

KM resolutely stared past her shoulder.

"So…," Izumi broke the suddenly awkward silence, "Can't we just set a new command that'll latch on to the pattern as it's being made and then track down the user?"

"Theoretically," he said, strangely thoughtful. "But I have a better idea." He spun his modified laptop around. The large screen held nothing but binary code, but with plenty of time to read it, she eventually realized that it was a message board of some type. "Orimoto, meet your new coworkers."

"Is that what I think it is?"

"Contrary to conspiracy theories, I am not telepathic. Answering that question is beyond my ability."

She scoffed, strangely comforted by the pattern of arguing right and left. At least when he reacted with sarcasm, Izumi knew where she stood with him. "It's a forum."

"Yes."

"For the hacker community."

"People like us, in other words."

She stopped short and stared at him with a gray expression. "Not necessarily."

KM's face was turned away from her, but his eyes swung around to stare detachedly at her laptop. "Oh?"

"I'm not like you," Izumi shook her head emphatically, "so don't get too careless. How many times have I told you that it's a bad idea to patronize your partner?"

He blinked dark blue eyes almost innocently. "Do you think I'm patronizing you?"

So direct. Not at all subtle. Not at all her idea of a criminal. Izumi opened and closed her mouth several times without making a sound. Finally, she muttered, "Does it matter?"

"It does to me."

"Obviously. Don't you have better things to worry about right now?"

"…Hey, Orimoto. I have a question."

Izumi stiffened and glared at him. Did he not realize what he was doing? Or rather, was it that he knew exactly what he was doing? The bastard. Normally, she wouldn't have a problem with ignoring KM when he got off on tangents – but he seemed to have a good idea of where to go next, and she knew better than to discount him so quickly. Most geniuses were eccentric; KM was absolutely no exception.

Woe.

KM waited. Izumi waited. They waited. Ten minutes passed. Finally, fed up with games, the blond woman threw her hands up and growled, "What is it?"

He smirked in victory and she suddenly hated everything in the world that lead up to this point. What did she care for a government scandal? All that mattered was that this man was toying with her the way he would a wooden puppet, smiling twistedly the entire way.

Soft. Almost humming. "What's your middle name?"

And then there were moments like this that made the hairs on the back of Izumi's neck raise, not so much because of what he would say but because of the way his eyes would stare at her knowingly. As if the _words_ weren't unnerving enough. "I don't have one."

"Liar," KM replied, passing his hand lazily in front of his eyes.

Izumi didn't ask how he knew what was a lie and what wasn't. The government had given him as little personal information as possible for the sake of protecting her identity after the assignment was over, but personally, she didn't think that the precaution made a difference. They were dealing with a hacking genius, after all.

She straightened her jaw and refused to flinch. "Prove it."

His eyes twitched then. The slight movement was mirrored at the ends of his mouth. "What would you like as proof?"

"Just prove it," she repeated, staring at him directly.

"I'm not omniscient," he said with a sharp frown, "unlike some people in this country."

"Like who?"

KM shrugged. "The they's and them's of the world, I guess."

"You don't know?"

He bared his teeth. "Funny thing about information, Orimoto. The people who know everything always forget one thing."

"What's that?" Izumi asked, genuinely curious to see where this was going.

"That no one else knows as much as they do."

"Is that…selective ignorance?"

He blinked at her. "Why do you say ignorance? It makes them sound manipulative. No, I think that they just don't realize how they're different from other people. Like children, you know – or computers."

"For a hacker, isn't calling someone a computer a compliment?"

"Then I'm complimenting them. Are you surprised?"

"No, it figures. You admire them for knowing everything."

"That's not it," he corrected neatly, "I admire them for not telling everyone else what they know."

"Why?" Izumi wondered if that was going to be her favorite word from now on. Why this, why that. She really couldn't help it, though. KM probably spent all of his considerable free time thinking of new ways to confuse the rest of humanity.

"Secrets are pretty things."

"Especially when they belong to you, right?" Izumi pushed him on the forehead with her palm. "You like being exclusive."

"I'm a hacker. Enough said."

"So is liking secrets part of the official hacker creed?" she asked, only half joking.

He looked at her with dark blue eyes and long, long eyelashes. "Seeing as you're not a hacker yourself…I can't tell you. Sorry. Secrets of the trade, you know."

Izumi scoffed slightly and reached her hand out to touch the black computer in his hands. "Do I need to remind you that we're chatting in the middle of work?"

"No," he sighed. "Aren't you a downer."

"I prefer the term efficient."

"I prefer the term downer. Have you ever seen the inner workings of a criminal organization before, Orimoto?"

"Only in Chicago gang system. I did some work there in law enforcement before I applied for my current job."

"Not bad," KM said in a stately, judgmental way, "better than what most people in your workplace know." In response to her glare, he let out a tired sigh and muttered, "It's the truth."

"I'll have you know that offending someone is not the best route to go if you want to stay out of jail."

"I see, you take offense easily when I insult the government. That's loyalty." KM nodded to himself, then casually continued his discussion of criminal communities like he had never been interrupted. "You probably already know this, but the main thing that sets organized crime apart is the hierarchy. The higher you go, the more powerful – or influential, depending on the kind of crime. A few rare cases can reach the upper ranks without purposefully manipulating others, but people like that don't come by very often. It takes a lot of natural talent to do something like that. Very rare natural talent."

"Do you know anyone like that? Personally, I mean?"

He stared at her. "I know someone who could be, but chooses not to be. If that counts for anything."

Izumi blinked. "Who?"

"Not relevant," he sighed. "Knowing who it is won't change anything. I think. Probably. Just be careful…it's better to let sleeping dogs lie."

"Well, how much of what you're telling me _is_ relevant, then?"

KM blinked almost owlishly at her, completely motionless except for the slow shuttered movement of his eyelids. "All of it. Trust me on this one."

"…Fine."

"For the most part, the hacker community is typical. There are certain ranks that you can get if you're good enough – and it's usually like a dictatorship. With the occasional civil war here and there."

"How do people advance up the social ladder?"

He tapped slowly on the closed computer on his lap. "By hacking into the accounts of the upper ranks. Some people are what we call thresholds. The weakest links, so to speak. If you take control of their usernames, it's easy to transfer their privileges over to yourself."

"So the number of people with ranks is limited?"

"Not necessarily. The system is programmed to – well, never mind. That's not relevant either."

"I just wanted to know if the ranks are permanent."

"Of course not," he said quietly. There was a hint of appreciation in his voice, so low and insubstantial that she barely caught it. "You understand, right? Why it's necessary to have a system like this."

Izumi smiled brightly and mockingly. "Survival of the fittest?"

"Yes. You have such a good mind, Orimoto. It's really a shame."

"What's a shame?"

"That you hate us so much. You would have gone far." Somehow, he sounded so perfectly self-confident that not even Izumi could take offense. It was almost repulsive. A man like that shouldn't be able to flatter others with sweet words dripping off his tongue like vaporous honey, but he could. He could, and he did. His talent in hacking was _mediocre_ in comparison.

She told him so in no uncertain terms.

In response, he swung his arms out carelessly but purposefully. "There's a reason that I'm useful to the government and the other hackers are not, you know?"

"Why, because you can sweet talk the law enforcement into letting you off?"

"No…because I can sweet talk the others into letting the government off."

"You don't feel like bringing us down just yet?"

A slow shrug. "More like it's not worth the energy."

"…I can't think of anything to say to that," Izumi admitted quietly, "considering our current situation. Does every hacker think so? That our security is a laughingstock?"

He hesitated before telling her, "Yes and no."

"I guess this is an appropriate time to ask why. Not that I really care about what happens in your forums, but…"

KM scoffed slightly. "Then why are you asking?"

"I don't know." She threw her hands up, watching the cramped muscles unwinding helplessly in the air. "Just answer the question."

"It's kind of complicated, but I'll try to explain. You know how we've only got one leader?"

"And how the leader is you?"

"For now," he admitted shamelessly. "Although it's been like this for a while."

"KM, how long have you been a hacker?"

"I'm an admin on the boards. That's how long."

"Oh. One of the originals, huh…"

"You could say that. Anyways, if it's about the government, not everyone feels the same way I do. Which point of view do you want, mine or everyone else's?"

"You could always tell me both."

He let himself drop face down onto the plush carpet. A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest; his next words were muffled by the cottony threads on the ground. "I should've figured that you would say that. Why didn't I?"

"Why didn't you," she repeated drolly, "I wonder?"

Quick as a flash, his arms lifted up beside him and tensed, pushing up the rest of his body into a slightly lopsided kneeling position. She registered the change quickly because her gaze was following him the entire way, and not necessarily just to maintain eye contact. He tilted his head in her direction and returned the stare. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to you."

She snickered quietly, unable to help herself. "Wouldn't that be something? And…you're getting off topic again."

"Oh. Right. The government." KM swung his legs back into a sitting position. "Most people think that there's something wrong with it. Just wrong. Not even corruption – although there's probably plenty of that going around – just…how should I put it? Something wrong."

"Inherently?"

"I guess." He looked somewhat doubtful about her wording, but not enough to keep debating the point. "For example, you have superiors, don't you?"

"Of course. I wouldn't be here otherwise."

His eyes passed from her face to the ground several times in quick succession before he said softly, "Of course not. And that's exactly it. You have superiors, superiors have superiors, and so on and so forth…but who's actually making the decision at the very top?"

Izumi was about to suggest the president before she realized that the executive branch wasn't supposed to interfere with her division. A better answer would be… "Probably the special officers."

"No," he shook his head, "there are too many of them. Nothing would ever get done if _they_ didn't have orders coming from above."

"I see. You don't like it that the government hierarchy is so complicated, right?"

"It's not the complication that's the problem. It's the secrecy."

"I thought you said secrets were pretty."

"Not when the government is supposedly public property – wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. That's what _I_ think, not what most of the community thinks."

"Okay." Izumi sighed in exasperation. Yet another thing that bothered her about KM, or rather, something that bothered her because it _didn't_ bother her: he had no focus whatsoever. The guy seemed to do everything based on a whim, only taking the time afterwards to figure out a rational reason. And he always found one. Really…he was too damned normal to be a genius. Or too damned genius to be normal. Either one.

"A lot of people also think that we should take over and rule the world." It was said with a look of perfect seriousness.

"…you would screw a lot of things up." Understatement of the century.

He snickered. "What, you _don't_ want extremists running the country? I wonder why."

"Do you agree with them?" Almost immediately after asking the question, Izumi knew the answer. Of course not. KM was many things, but not ambitious. Trying to gain power in the real world would contradict his inborn apathy too much. Wait…if that was the case, why was he doing so much for hacker community? Izumi pondered the issue for a while before realizing that she didn't even know how their leaders were chosen. If they only cared about skill, then it was entirely possible that he got to his position of power without even realizing it. Not plausible, but possible.

"Not really, no." KM shook his head, confirming her suspicions. "What would the country do without its government? I don't see any way to bring it down without causing a whole lot of collateral damage."

"Funny that you care. Last I checked, you weren't too worried about the rest of society."

KM suddenly slammed his computer screen down and pushed it away. She cringed at the sound, instantly recognizing the flare of an ugly temper in his eyes. He didn't do anything else. Heavy hissing breaths filled the room, steadily increasing in tempo until they came one right after another.

And then he almost stopped breathing altogether. Absolute stillness reigned in the room.

It felt almost blasphemous to break it. Oh, well. "KM, what are you doing?"

"Shut up," he said emotionlessly. "It would help if you acknowledged every once in a while that I'm not a heartless freak of nature, you know."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "Aren't you?"

"Orimoto, you should…I…" His voice faded, broke off. "That's not a fair thing to say."

"I don't have to be fair to be right," Izumi pointed out.

Apparently, he had nothing to say to that. His eyes looked almost gray from the side, pupils thin and suspended in a translucent iris. Rather inappropriately, Izumi wondered what his family background was, since a full-blooded Japanese person couldn't have blue eyes. She didn't believe for a moment that Kouji Minamoto really existed. Names could always be changed. Records could always be modified.

Silent. So silent. The white-washed room reflected the mood of its owner – uneasy and unhappy. Izumi was suddenly aware of being the trespasser on his territory. His, and not hers, and most certainly not the government's. Where would the law be more useless than in a place like this? Shivers ran up and down her spine in response to the anxiety buried in her heart.

Quietly, she said, "I'm sorry."

Just as quietly, he said, "Don't apologize."

Disconcerted by his mood swings, Izumi prodded him back on track by pushing his computer open and making a great show of chewing her lip confusedly. KM watched her with unnatural stillness before slowly realizing what she was trying to do. Then he almost smiled.

"What's next?" she asked.

Her partner shook off the last remaining embers of irritation and moved to help her with the computer. "This."

About half a dozen clicks later, it was official.

He. Was. A. Genius. There was no other way to describe him.

"This…this is amazing." Izumi tried and failed to keep the admiration out of her voice, but honestly, when it came to his profession, he deserved every ounce of pride in his body.

KM was sitting flat on his stomach, tilting his head all the way back. He had given up his position in front of the computer to Izumi, who knelt down warily next to large black machine like it was a ticking bomb. She wondered why he spent so much time stretched out on the ground, especially when the bandanna always seemed to be on the verge of falling off.

Like now, when he rolled onto his side to face her directly.

Izumi's hand instinctively shot out to press the dark cloth flat against his hair, long enough to push the knot back into place. The sensation of fine black locks between her fingers was completely unexpected and unpremeditated. She pulled back quickly. KM looked somewhat mystified at her reaction – or bewildered, or interested, or amused. Or all of the above.

She twirled her own hair around with that same hand and asked pointedly, "What?"

"You have such a skewed sense of what's amazing, Orimoto," he declared.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" Was it her imagination or was he getting closer? "You seem to think that it's perfectly normal to insult a criminal to his face, but chatting on a website is enough to make you go into hyperactive spasms. How does that work?"

She stared at him. "_Hyperactive spasms_? Did I hear you correctly?"

KM opened his mouth, closed it, and blushed faintly. "…Maybe that wasn't the best choice of words."

"Really?" Izumi retorted sarcastically, "And here I was thinking that people used that phrase all the time!"

He opened his mouth and said accusingly, "You can't tease me like that, Orimoto."

"Well, why not?"

"Because you won't let me tease you back."

Her lips fluttered silently. Oh. "You have a point."

"Right."

It was very, very awkward after that. Izumi tucked her arms under her knees and brought them close, lips puckered thoughtfully. She should have known better than to expect him to back off and bow down. KM was the master of doing exactly the opposite of what people wanted him to do.

What was he trying to pull this time?

Before she could get too far in her musings, the man coughed purposefully. "So, what do you want to put down for your name?"

"Um…" It took some time to realize what he was referring to. "Oh. Do you want me to join?"

He choked quietly. "You're kidding, right? I'm not going to endanger myself by doing an investigation with my personal account. You either make your own user or you don't use the forum at all."

"…are you seriously going to let me, Miss Government-is-Good, join your beloved little community?"

"You're not that bad, though."

She turned to face him head on. "You can't possibly…"

"Listen," he breathed, hand coming around to catch her jaw firmly, "There is _no_ limit to what I can or can not do. Stop assuming things. Wipe your mind clean. Learn to think like a hacker, or I won't be responsible for what happens to you."

Izumi let her eyes stare straight into his. "What do you want from me?"

His hand was abnormally warm on the skin of her face, even though he was barely touching her. "Show me what you can do. Prove it to me."

"Prove what?" she asked with no small amount of trepidation after he trailed off. There was a considering look in his eyes again – the one that KM always got before he went off on one of his ridiculous rants. God, she hated being dragged into things like this, because the conversations would sometimes last until dawn and she would be so tired that he could probably ask anything from her and she'd give it.

Anything at all.

It was a chilling thought. Even more chilling because it was true. She quietly promised herself not to let it happen again.

A heavy weight suddenly dropped into her lap. Izumi blinked, recognizing KM's computer, and stared down at the man on the floor. He looked back at her and said, "Go on."

Izumi filed away her questions for later and set herself to the task of ripping the website's security apart. It took a while to get to the real login page – certainly longer than it would have taken an experienced hacker like KM. As tired as she was, Izumi decided to ask him for suggestions halfway through, only to have him wave the question off.

"Do it all yourself. I'm your partner, not your babysitter."

And it was true. She had started this joint venture wanting to be his equal. Asking him to lend a hand wouldn't help her reach that point at all. And yet, why was he only starting to take her seriously now? What awful timing…

Fine. It didn't matter. Failure was failure. And she could always hack into his account later if things got that bad. KM was a genius, yes, but not for security. Compared to some of her other assignments over the years, it would be a piece of cake. There _were_ benefits to having so much experience with the government's firewalls, even if her partner didn't think so.

KM finally broke the silence several hours later with a tired sigh. Izumi felt victorious. It was only recently that she had learned the meaning of patience; KM used to put on an act of complete silence so that she would try to fill in the empty spaces with small talk. It wasn't so much the awkwardness that got to her in the beginning – it was the expectancy. The man would make a magnificent interrogator if he ever decided to quit the criminal route, though she doubted the chances of that ever happening. Even if…wait. Wait. He was _tired_? Psychotic, derisive, brilliant KM was _tired_?

Izumi quickly glanced at the clock. Oh. Well, she didn't blame him. "Hey," she called quietly.

The sound of yawning stopped as suddenly as a bullet. Slowly, his blue eyes lifted open and stared at her blankly. "Yes?"

"It's three in the morning. Go to bed."

"Can't," he muttered. "You're using my computer."

She scoffed quietly. "If you're so worried about security, why did you give it to me in the first place?"

"No choice. It's the only way to access the forum…"

"I doubt it. A chat room that's only reachable with one computer isn't very much of a chat room."

"Ha," he laughed. "Sharp, so sharp."

"What's sharp, my head or my tongue?"

KM raised his eyebrow at her. Some time ago he had taken one of the cushions and laid it under his head like a makeshift pillow. No wonder he was nearly asleep. "Both, Orimoto. You're pretty sharp in general. You just need to believe me a little more. Listen…you can only make a new account by using a registered user's computer. Otherwise, the system just kicks you out."

"Why?" she asked, baffled.

He shrugged. "It's convenient."

"No long-winded explanations today, KM?" she asked dryly.

"Not this late at night." Pause. "Or early in the morning…you know what. Why don't you ask me questions? It'll probably help me stay awake."

She chortled then, throwing him a glorious smile. "Fine. Why are we using a chat room to find our criminal? And how?"

Although his eyes were closed heavily, KM didn't sound all that sleepy when he answered. "It has to do with the way new users sign up. Everyone has to be physically in the same room as a senior member before they can join, right…and the hacker community is pretty close-knit. We kind of have to be. Any kind of organized crime is always best with collaborators."

She stopped typing. "My god."

"You get it, right?" KM murmured. "Chances are, the target's in the community. And if he's in the community, there's a trail of people leading right to his doorstep. Literally."

"How do you know that he's in the community, though?"

"Simple. I don't."

Now she couldn't help rolling her eyes. "Okay then. Great. So we might be going a wild goose chase?"

"It's a gamble." He shrugged awkwardly, elbows bumping up against the carpet. "If it makes you feel better, I wouldn't have suggested doing things this way if the odds weren't in our favor."

"Fine," she said quietly.

He was a bastard. But at least he was an honest bastard, the kind of person you could believe in when worst came to worst.

She could work with this.


	5. Chapter 5

Almost to the end, guys. One more chapter and an epilogue. That's it.

But don't despair...I will write plenty of other stories to make up for it.

EDITED: Sorry for the inbox spam? [winces]

* * *

Chapter 5: Knowing the Unknown

* * *

She could work with this. Or not.

After leaving their third screaming match behind, Izumi settled down behind the bathroom door and nearly wrenched the soft blue rug on the floor to pieces. She quietly chanted a mantra to calm herself down. It didn't work, as the sound of tearing fabric proved seconds later.

Why was he such a…such a…

There was no word for someone like him. KM was KM: never changing, never improving, and never becoming one iota closer to a decent guy. God, Izumi hated fighting with him all the time. It was getting in the way of their assignment – and the sooner they finished, the better.

The faucet was dripping.

Beads of water clung to the tap and quivered like a newly exposed butterfly wing.

Drip. Drip. Drip…Creak. Creak. Creak…

What was that sound? Izumi glanced all over the room for signs of movement, but unless mice were colonizing the walls (doubtful, considering KM's paranoid tendencies) there was only one direction that the noise could be coming from.

Izumi leaned up against the door and listened.

It opened and she fell over, shrieking with surprise. Then there was a loud crashing sound when her head hit the floor, tiny white stars sparking in her eyes. Izumi tried to sit up to assess the damage, but she could already tell from the pain that the back of her head was going to bruise. Even worse was the feeling of indescribable nausea that sparked in her gut. She tried to flex her stomach muscles to make the sensation go away. It didn't work.

KM's face suddenly appeared in front of her. "Hey."

She nearly squeaked at their close proximity. "What?"

"You shouldn't lean against the door."

"It was locked, so how was I supposed to know – wait, how the hell did you open the door?" By chance, Izumi caught sight of the hand that he was holding behind his back. She kicked her feet out and used the momentum to sit up. With a better angle, it was easy to see the…

Paper clip?

Ha. Of _course_.

KM followed her gaze to his hand and smirked. "There's only one bathroom."

"Oh," Izumi mumbled, feeling a hot blush wash over her face. Of all reasons to interrupt her brooding, it was something like this? She fixed the soft cotton sleeve that had slipped over the shoulder before turning her attention back to her companion and scowling hotly. KM's eyebrows were steadily inching up. It looked rather funny on him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Could you please move?"

Her lips opened and closed like a fish gasping for breath. Thoroughly embarrassed, Izumi began to shuffle back to the wall. Then she scrambled out of the way on her knees until a steady hand reached out and pulled her up. Defiantly looking away from him, she protested the firm grip on her wrist with a soft murmur.

"Slow today, aren't you?"

"No, just a little pissed off," she shot back, not feeling very generous.

"Oh?" His eyelashes turned down for the briefest of moments. Not a good sign, Izumi realized. Not at all. KM never raised his voice when angry - that kind of thing was reserved for friendly teasing. Instead, he would skip straight to violence. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to react when his hand wrapped around the front of her neck. She didn't try to calm him down, either, because when KM was in a bad mood he did all sorts of things that he couldn't be bothered to do otherwise. The only surefire way to get through these moments unharmed was to stay still. Twisted logic, yes, but what else would you expect?

If KM ever ripped the country apart, his excuse would probably be waking up on the wrong side of the bed. He probably wouldn't regret it, either.

But…

But he would never kill anyone with his bare hands, no matter how angry or tired or selfish he could be. It was just beyond his ability. Or, more accurately, it was beyond his logic.

So, Izumi didn't even flinch when the pressure began to cut off her air supply. "You might want to stop."

"Why?"

"Nothing, you just don't _want_ to kill me," she said carelessly.

KM let go, but not necessarily out of agreement.

He was already gone by the time Izumi lifted up her head.

Instead of stirring herself into a frenzy over his rudeness, she decided to just walk away. Leaving the room was a new habit of hers, _very_ new for someone who much preferred revenge to surrender. Unfortunately, she was trapped in _his_ apartment, so KM had the advantage. Whether or not he decided to use that advantage was irrelevant. Stubborn she may be, stupid she was not.

Time to stop thinking. Time for some food.

And some sleep. KM's couch had the softness of a well-worn pillow; napping on it was practically inevitable. Izumi could tell from its tattered condition that the sofa had gone through at least one generation of children, but her host wasn't sentimental enough to keep heirlooms, so she figured that it had been a random garage sale purchase. On the scale of frugality, KM was an undefined value. In a twisted sort of way, it made sense…

The world was different for a practiced con man like him – even the meaning of greed was different. With the possible exception of his ego, he didn't seem to indulge himself at all. Ironically, his ego was easier to put up with than his friendliness, although that was probably because of her own wariness. Izumi would never understand him completely. She would never _want_ to.

Normal. Ha.

If people like KM ever rose up to become the majority, Izumi would fear for her life.

Or for her country.

No, for her life.

Because KM being normal was just not normal.

Unfortunately, he didn't understand that there were bad times to be eccentric, just like how he didn't understand heartbreak. The only constant thing in his life was change – no, that was a lie. KM's particular brand of insanity wasn't actually that bad. He certainly knew how to use it to his advantage and how to hide it when necessary. He wasn't exactly a success, but no one would ever call him a failure.

Izumi was the same way. The word genius meant nothing to her in and of itself. Too strange to be normal and too normal to be strange equaled…what, exactly? Not eccentric. It didn't fit the profile. That was probably the biggest paradox of all...Izumi was simply too intelligent to be a genius. Something was missing. The kind of something that let KM sink his teeth into everyone around him and keep on going without a care in the world. Supposedly, it was a bad thing.

They weren't the same kind of person, no matter how much KM insisted that they could be.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Izumi didn't want to find out, mostly because ignorance felt too good. Unfortunately, most of her daily routine involved the same person she was trying to ignore, so she was never far from hearing his opinions over and over.

She really did try.

But it was so hard.

For example, she constantly wondered about what he spent his considerable funds on – despite the fact that she wasn't supposed to think about things like that. Officially, it was none of her business. Unofficially, she didn't care.

She already knew that KM would never spend a penny on his computer. Every little piece of software or hardware in the clunky machine was either homemade or hacked.

She would have to look elsewhere…at things like his diet. Ice cream, for example. But…no…just…no. Izumi didn't want to think about stolen government property being used to supply KM with _sugar_ of all things.

Technology was out. Food was out. That left her with his last and possibly greatest love…

Criminal activity.

Maybe he was into bribery. Izumi chewed on that thought for exactly 2.2 seconds before spitting it out again. Why would KM bother to bribe anyone with _his_ hard-earned money when he could easily tap into better alternatives? Blackmail, in this case, was free and just as effective – oh, and much more interesting.

Izumi shivered. Scarily enough, KM's logic was starting to make sense. She decided not to find out any more about the hacker's spending habits. It wasn't worth the time or the effort. What was the point if she couldn't send him to jail for any of it?

…Best to let it go.

Ha, as if. She was probably going to ask him a dozen questions about where his money went as soon as he came back. Damn her own curiosity.

The hallway lights were still on, even though it was completely bright outside. They must have forgotten to turn them off last night, too busy dealing with the bandwidth problem to bother. Izumi flipped the switch and blinked when the walls turned blue because of the curtains. Then she shrugged and continued down the hallway into a small kitchenette.

The refrigerator was nowhere to be found. Strange, because KM's diet seemed to consist entirely of cereal, pancakes, ice cream, apple turnovers, and anything else that required minimal preparation. There was no way he could store it all without a good-sized freezer, and a good-sized freezer was conspicuously lacking. Undaunted, Izumi began to open random cabinets – and promptly shut them again.

Guns were definitely inedible, after all.

At least she wouldn't have to wonder anymore about where his money went.

And speaking of guns, there was one pressed to her left kidney right now. Apparently, KM was back.

She rolled her eyes and said, "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it a long time ago."

He scoffed quietly. "This is why I hate spending too much time with people."

"Why, because they catch on to your game?"

"No, because they realize that it _is_ a game."

"And there's a winner and a loser."

"Or two losers."

"Never two winners?" She almost smiled, feeling ridiculously justified in hating him.

KM shrugged. "It's sort of like love, I guess. One person is always going to benefit more than the other. "

Her hands itched to smash his face in, but since he was being so kind as to keep her alive, Izumi reckoned that he deserved better. Maybe a slap instead of a smash. Definitely at least a slap. "Is that _experience_ talking, KM?"

"Sort of," he replied, seemingly unaware of her growing irritation.

"Oh," she muttered, "Your girls, right?"

His lips twitched at that and her desire to see him locked firmly behind bars strengthened tenfold. He reached out his arm and hit the gun against the wall, letting the sound ring in the air. It echoed with a soft, hollow ping.

Suspicious, Izumi snatched it out of his hands and checked the magazine for ammunition. Empty. "It's a dud."

"I don't carry loaded guns in the house," KM said matter-of-factly.

She scoffed and dropped it onto the counter after tugging the safety switch. "You don't have a house."

"Apartment, then."

"Why do you even need guns?"

He shrugged. "I don't. Collecting them is just a hobby of mine." At her look of disapproval, he added, "None of the guns in the cabinets are loaded, either. I keep the ammunition somewhere else."

"So what's the point? You can't even use them for self-defense."

"Bluffing works just as well, I've found."

"What if there's no time for that?"

"There usually is."

"Are you telling me that potential thieves are just going to wait for you to point a gun at them?"

"You'd be surprised at how…_juvenile_ most criminals are."

Izumi scoffed.

He waved her off with a casual swing of his wrist. "Why are you so worried?"

She scowled and tapped her foot. "I'm just asking."

"I don't have to answer, you know." He shrugged. "If someone comes to shoot me dead tomorrow, there's nothing I can do about it. Homicidal people are very determined, you see."

"You don't have any self-preservation instincts, do you?"

"Not really. I've never needed it."

"Only because of luck."

"That's why I live in Vegas," he called after her retreating back. "And why you shouldn't."

"Why," Izumi yelled back from the living room, having forgotten about getting food, "because I'm too unlucky?"

There was no reply – at least, none that she could hear.

Well, no matter. Izumi yawned, completely exhausted after searching all night for their elusive target. Actually, most of that time had been spent exploring the website, half of which was supposedly inaccessible without administrator permission. Obviously, translated into layman's terms, that meant she would have to hack in. Even worse, KM seemed to enjoy watching her frustration and irritation and impatience, enough to actually laugh at her _pathetic_ efforts. Just the memory was enough to make her fists clench into tight balls.

On second thought, maybe it _was_ her fault they had been fighting so much lately…

At least _she_ was going to enjoy the look on his face when he discovered his new username. In fact, he should be picking his computer up any moment now.

She started to count down the seconds. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

The door banged open and KM stumbled into the room, laughing so hard that he could barely stay upright. "Orimoto, you're a fucking genius!"

Izumi blinked. That…wasn't exactly the reaction she had been expecting. "What?"

He almost dropped his computer on the ground in his hurry to show her the screen. "This - you really did it. I didn't think you had the guts, but you _did – do – still…_." He went on to say a good deal more, but the rest was obscured by choked laughter.

"…You…you're not upset?" Izumi was completely and utterly baffled.

So was KM. "Why would I be?"

She blinked and blinked.

"You know," he declared slowly and patiently, "I _do_ have a sense of humor."

"Oh," said Izumi, still reeling. The tension was completely gone from his eyes; they were shining like bright stones and children. It was like the past few days of fighting had been forgotten. Suddenly feeling cheerful for the first time in a long time, she asked him innocently, "You don't mind being called an asshole?"

He stopped cackling and started glaring at her. "Depends on how often it happens."

"Okay. I'm going to use that from now on."

"You know, I have a perfectly good name."

"A perfectly good, _fake_ name."

"Fakeness is subjective. I have the right to choose my own name, don't I?"

"There's no reason to make things _sound_ better for my sake. You enjoy lying to the world and getting away with it. That's all there is to the grand mystery of your life."

His eyes glittered with amusement. "You haven't answered the most important question. Why shouldn't I?"

"Why _should_ you? You know, KM – I always did find it strange that you went by the same name everywhere." Izumi peered at him with a look of pure innocence on her face. "I'm sure someone as intelligent as you knows that it isn't possible to hack into paper."

KM paused midway across the room, balancing the computer on his hipbone. A faint whistling breath escaped his throat when he made to answer her, voice perfectly unaffected. "What are you getting at?"

"Just saying…" Izumi rolled over and practically fluttered her eyelashes. "Ever since that incident years and years ago when the entire government archive was deleted, every single file has been printed out at creation. No exceptions. They're all in the historical documents room and they're _never_ destroyed. That includes birth certificates."

"So?"

"So," she continued triumphantly, "isn't it obvious? You aren't Kouji Minamoto."

Just like predicted: surprise was a good look on him. "That's pretty heavy-handed. Don't you need a warrant to search a citizen's personal papers?"

She shot him a rather bored look. "You really don't understand. I don't care about breaking the law, so why should I bother getting a warrant?"

Scratch that. Surprise was a _great_ look on him. His eyelids blinked and his lips thinned and his breath shuddered out as if he had been running a marathon. Izumi reflected petulantly that it wasn't fair of him to pull a face like that. He looked almost _cute_.

"Odd," KM concluded, with a serious frown playing on his face. "You really don't care?"

"The government can handle a little creative interpretation as long as it's just every now and then. And I never do more than bend the rules." She fixed her eyes on him.

KM returned her stare. "If you don't believe in protecting the government, why are you here?"

"I don't want to hurt people."

"Is that all?"

"That's all. I just want to protect everyone who can't do it for themselves. Nobody deserves to get hurt when it's not necessary. Listen, KM – the law has no feelings. No matter how much you break it, it's not going to cry."

"Ha," he said in one long, steady breath. "It's really a pity. You would have been _magnificent_."

She blinked. "Magnificent how?"

"Never mind. How did you find my papers?"

"IQ. I took a wild guess."

"Ah. The government collects a lot of information, doesn't it?"

"It's all useful information, so why not?"

"What did you guess my IQ to be?"

"That's really none of your business."

"Seriously, Orimoto, it's a valid question. I had no idea that the government was tracking my IQ - I don't even know what my IQ _is_."

"You don't?" Izumi stared at him in bewilderment. "Wait, so why was it listed on your profile?"

"Don't know. I used to have normal desk job – don't laugh - so I might have taken the test without even knowing it. Either that or you found the wrong file." He clucked his tongue. Like a _c__hicken_, she thought, hiding a smile.

"I don't think so. March 30th, 1984. Does that date mean anything to you?"

He didn't say anything for a long time, apparently preferring to trace patterns on the sofa behind her. Finally he muttered, "Orimoto, you have no right to say that I'm paranoid anymore. You're worse." His gaze was like a freshly sharpened knife. Every instinct in her body was screaming to look away, look away.

She didn't. That blessed, cursed pride was going to get her in trouble someday. "I already knew that. Stop changing the subject. Does the date mean anything to you?"

"Yes."

"Then you're only 26? So young."

"Having a young age and being young are two different things." KM fingered his laptop almost regretfully.

"But you're still young," Izumi repeated, with the firm force of belief bolstering her words. Regardless of KM's twisted psychology, she couldn't see him as anything but a human being anymore. Blame the ice cream. Blame the _smiles_. It was an unfortunate turn of events, but since there was no going back, Izumi decided to make the best of it. "Where did KM come from?"

"I don't know. A flash of inspiration, maybe. Or a drunken rant. Something strange like that. I remember waking up one day and saying to myself, that's a good name. And it stuck." He leaned against the sofa and placed his arms on her knees. It was warm. She pushed him with her foot and his lips twitched.

"You didn't like your real name?"

"Technically, KM _is_ my real name."

"But not originally."

There was a thoughtful crease on his forehead. "Does it matter?"

"Guess not. A rose by any other name rots just as quickly."

"Stop butchering Shakespeare, Orimoto."

"Shakespeare can't hear me anymore. He's a British poet...a dead British poet."

"Poet _and_ playwright, not just poet. And he was a genius."

"Genius? You think so?"

"Don't you?" KM completely closed his eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned in the front, but it was so loose that the folds still covered him completely. She had been bewildered at first to see how modestly KM dressed, but only before realizing that his brand of flirting centered on a few well-timed smiles. That was it. Izumi wondered how many of his girls had been just like her: wise enough to catch on but foolish enough to stay. At least _she_ had a valid reason.

"Well, geniuses never believe in geniuses." Izumi wrinkled her nose right after the words left her mouth. Was she imagining the smell of gunpowder? She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, but KM was grinning, running his index finger down an imaginary dimple line in his cheek.

"Paradox."

"Not really."

"Do _you _think that geniuses exist?"

She smiled at him dimly. "Yes."

KM scoffed and brushed his knuckle against her forehead almost affectionately. The faint, calculating touch sent shivers down her spine. "You should check, you know."

"Check what?"

The door was closing, but not fast enough to cut off his reply.

"_Your_ name."

Izumi gaped after him and flashed her eyes down to the screen.

The blinking red text clearly said, 'Legally Blonde.'

* * *

_You sure about this, Kouji?_

_I'm sure. Everything's ready.  
_

_I don't know..._

_Trust me.  
_

_Only an idiot would._

_Shut up, Tomoki._

* * *

"Turn it off. Did you get the coordinates?"

"Yeah."

"Then we're done."

"Finally. No thanks to you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

Ophan was blinking at Izumi from the screen, looking haggard and anxious. She felt a pang of concern for the older woman, but stifled it temporarily. The best way for her to help everyone was to focus on the biggest problem first.

"We found them."

"Him," KM corrected behind her.

"Him," she sighed, throwing him a glare. His lips twitched ever so slightly.

"Ah!" Ophan sounded cheerful and wary at the same time. "So where is he?"

"In a small hotel about ten miles north of D.C. Here's the address."

"Do you have a physical description?"

KM snorted. "Sure we do. Find the guy with the best computer."

"He's also been staying in the same hotel for a while - with quite a bit of equipment - so check for any single travelers with two rooms." Izumi fought to keep her face neutral, but some hint of laughter must have found its way onto her face, because Ophan shook her head in mock disappointment.

"I see. Is there any way we can confirm his identity?"

"I'll be talking to him," Izumi said. "If you see a screen that looks like a forum of some kind, and there's a user named Z on the page, that's him."

"And if there's more than one person matching that description?"

"Then find the one typing as Cherub. Don't close the computer. I'm sending you a list of passwords and the file names. Copy down the files onto something, that'll be our proof. Or you could take a picture. I'm already in his system, but I don't think hacked files will hold up in court."

"We can't use the computer as evidence?" The older woman stopped writing down notes and stared at them from the screen.

KM answered her directly this time. "No. He's a hacker…of sorts. There _will_ be some kind of security put on it. It's better to take a picture."

Ophan's voice was cool and professional as she addressed him. "I suppose you would know."

Izumi winced internally. Of course. Their assignment was done, so he would be treated like any ordinary con artist now. The sense of loss was startling. She clenched her hands into fists, hoping that with time, things would settle down back to normal. And then KM wouldn't have such a stranglehold over her emotions. Normal. Yes. That would be good…

"May I speak to Izumi privately, please?" Ophan said politely.

The sound of her voice brought pangs to the younger woman's chest, like a great hole was opening right under her feet. "Yes?"

KM seemed hesitant to go – there were sparks of resentment flickering on his face. But eventually he stood up and walked out of the room. The door slammed behind him warningly.

Staring after him, Izumi bit her lip and closed her eyes. It took too much effort to stay put, so she began to fidget with the pale bits of carpet lint. "Ophan."

"Izumi," her voice was gentle, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "It's just…I understand why there were so many people who…you know."

"It's alright. I'm sorry for sending you there."

"I'm sorry for being here." Glumly, she wondered how things would have worked out if someone else had been sent to work with KM. But…even then…it wouldn't have been any different. His little formula had never failed to work for him. Why would he need to change for anyone?

Right now, Izumi just wanted to go home and take a long nap. "Ophan, will I have any assignments when I get back?"

The woman frowned. "You're not coming back any time soon, Izumi. I'm putting you on a nice vacation until things blow over. And there's something I need to tell you."

"What?"

"This is the last part of your assignment. Is his computer in the room with you?"

"Yeah?" A sinking feeling in her stomach made the world spin around. She suddenly knew exactly where this was going, like a flash of divine inspiration had fluttered out of the sky and into her head. "You're breaking the deal."

It wasn't a question.

Ophan sighed. "I know that it sounds wrong, Izumi, but can you really justify that man going free after everything that he's been doing?"

"You're serious. You're going to come here and arrest him after he helped us?"

"There's no reason not to. It's all going to end today."

"I see," she whispered. "And you want me to…"

"Take his computer apart. There should be enough evidence in there to convict him. As soon as you're done, call me again and I'll tell the officers to break in."

"You're not going to get a subpoena?"

"It's not necessary. Part of the deal."

"Ophan, did you plan to do this from the start?"

"Not me, but after someone else in the office suggested it, we all agreed that it would be for the best. The deal's not completely official. There's no hard evidence that it ever happened."

Numb with shock, Izumi stared at the image of her mentor smiling sympathetically yet triumphantly on the computer screen. A complex bundle of emotions settled in her gut, including relief. "I understand." Then, more loudly, she said, "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I'll see you soon. Take things easy for a while, okay?"

"Okay."

The video call ended and Izumi stood up.

It was with cold fingers that she opened the dull, metallic machine. Somehow, it felt wrong to be holding KM's computer so intimately, as if it already belonged to her. Complicated emotions were getting the better of her again; Izumi just laid her hands determinedly over the edge and brought up the screen.

The sentence was "I think I love you."

A dull pain blossomed in her chest and made her keel over, laughing and sobbing hysterically. "I think," she choked out weakly, "I love you." Her hands wouldn't stop shaking; if it was like this, there was no chance of making the thirty second limit. Did KM put that sentence in on purpose? Why? Did it mean anything? She jumped to her feet and walked through the entire apartment, waiting for the signature ponytail and bandana to appear just behind the door, but there was nothing.

Izumi was the only one left in the room. So much for arresting him, eh?

So much for staying with him, eh?

Her fingers twitched against the rough fabric on her knees. The world was hazy through the bright sheen of tears, but Izumi quickly wiped them away. His computer was waiting for her. She sat down again and took a deep breath. Except for the iridescent cracks in the lower right corner of the screen caused by years of use, the machine was in surprisingly good condition. If there was anything, anything at all that KM treasured…it was probably this.

Izumi threw it against the wall.

The alarms blared, but she ignored the sound completely. Tangled emotions sorted themselves into something resembling satisfaction. The tightness in her chest loosened into a lazy coil in her gut. Not quite happiness, but not quite disappointment either. She was content to watch things break in front of her, tenderly, vengefully. Through her peripheral vision, Izumi saw a black object bounce away from the rest of the metal bits. Curiosity won out over fatigue, so she went over for a closer look.

It was a ring box.

Inside, Izumi found five tiny dice-like squares that had been glued together. Such an odd thing to keep inside of a computer, but after working with KM for the past three weeks, nothing surprised her anymore. She pulled them out and realized that yes, they _were_ dice, but the side with six dots had been modified to make a big circle. Zero.

1-0-1-1-1.

The digits didn't seem to mean anything either, which was even more bizarre. Why would there be something like this in a computer? No matter how much Izumi analyzed it, her mind was stuck on thoughts of a hidden message. Since five characters couldn't possibly translate into anything in binary, Izumi finally discarded the idea and returned the tiny dice to their original position in the container. Maybe she shouldn't expect everything to have a meaning, especially when it came to _him_.

The shrill alarm slowly faded into the distance; Izumi wasn't sure if that meant it was actually getting quieter or if her ears were getting used to it

Finally, the sound stopped altogether, and in the silence that followed, Izumi snapped her fingers to make sure that she hadn't gone deaf. Then she walked aimlessly around the apartment, running her hands along the wall. There really were memories everywhere: the bed she slept in, the sink she washed in, the closet she kept her clothes in – or rather, that KM kept her clothes in.

A heavy sigh escaped her throat. Izumi pushed the wooden panel aside to get her backpack…and froze.

There was a calculator with most of its buttons removed that had been lodged between the shutters. The only numbers left were one and zero – not entirely unexpected, considering the man's obsession with binary. Wires from the side attached to something dark on the ceiling. And behind it…

Oh, god.

Izumi closed her eyes and focused on the mutilated calculator. A sudden flash of inspiration struck her. It was so simple. Too simple.

1-0-1-1-1.

10, 1, 1, 1. Added together, that made thirteen.

It really was a hidden message. KM must have known all along that this was going to happen.

"No problem," she whispered, trembling, "I'm down on my luck. You planned it all out so perfectly, didn't you?"

Izumi pushed the numbers from the dice into the calculator without the slightest hesitation. As soon as she finished, the screen went blank. Silence, pure and horrifying, echoed all around her in delicate clicks. She took her bag, threw the box with tiny dice inside, and ran out of the apartment. It exploded exactly thirteen seconds later.

"Goodbye," she said, to the wailing sirens and the smoke pouring out of the apartment.

* * *

_One unread message_. _Saturday, May 11__th__ 10:46 PM._

Subject: I see that you're still alive.

_Delete?_


	6. Chapter 6

This is the last chapter. Then there will be an epilogue.

I'm...actually kind of sad. Oh, and AYDSTU is going to update tomorrow.

* * *

Chapter 6: Morality and Immortality

* * *

On the outskirts of San José almost three years later, Izumi was quietly tapping into the bank account of a New York seamstress. She pulled out a few funds and transferred them through stocks into the pocket of a young man in Chicago. If all went as planned, the money would end up in her private savings within a week.

Outside, it was starting to rain. Izumi closed the laptop and absently watched the fat drops of water splashing on her window.

A loud rattling sound shook the house, but she ignored it.

Tap, tap, tap, went the shoes on the floor.

"It was hard as hell finding you, know that? I looked everywhere. You really know how to disappear." The door in front of her was still locked. He must have gotten in through the back.

"I didn't know you were looking." Izumi raised dull green eyes and looked at the visitor. It hurt to see his pale face and dark blue eyes, to see how little the passage of time affected him. A quiet, untouchable beauty that always turned around and left you behind, as if he was simply too fast for anybody to keep for long. Everyone else might as well be on the sidelines, watching him race - unless they stood in front of him and refused to leave.

Izumi wouldn't forgive the man for what he had done any time soon. It was one of the few things she could lord over him, knowing that she still had the power to free him but wouldn't use it.

"Of course I was. It's a bit frustrating when one of my identities suddenly goes missing, hm?" He turned around and knelt in front of her.

Izumi watched him with disinterested eyes. "You were bothering me."

"On the net. Not even in real life." More softly, he added, "You must really hate me."

"No," she denied quietly. And it was true. Even after everything that had happened, she still didn't quite hate him the way he deserved to be hated. Which only made it worse.

"You sure about that?" He reached out to touch her hair. She flinched, and his hand dropped away almost instantly. "I see."

"Of course. Isn't that why you're here? To tie up loose ends?"

"Not the only reason, but it's one of them," he said, unapologetically.

"Ha." Genuinely curious, she asked, "How many people did you scam out of their livelihoods last night?"

His eyes went dark, although it might have just been the poor lighting. " I told you, I stopped doing that a long time ago."

"Decided to leave more pickings to me?" She laughed wryly. Frustration seemed to flicker in his eyes but all traces of the emotion disappeared when he blinked. Izumi decided that she must have imagined it.

"Why not? You needed it more than I did."

"Of course. You have plenty of people to give you whatever you want, whenever you want it. Why did you even become a hacker?"

"Because I didn't want to rely on other people. Why did you?"

"Because I had no choice. I'm supposed to be dead, remember?"

"You're a better person than I am." He leaned forward and breathed in harshly. "But I suppose you already knew that?"

"You did, too." When there was no reply to that, Izumi turned her face away rigidly. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"No, you wanted _me_ to see _you._"

"Can't have one without the other." Ah, there it was. The signature KM honesty. It might as well be a brand by now.

"I don't want to see you."

"I'm well aware." His voice was soft and tight.

"I'm sure you are. Would you like some tea?"

"Do you have any?"

"No."

There was silence. Izumi stood up and went into the gray-wallpapered kitchen. Sweeping her hands over the limestone counters, she turned around and stared at him through the open door. He made no move to join her, so she continued to the pantry and opened up a can of chicken broth. The lid curled up when she pulled the handle.

While she was opening the can, Kouji hissed a long breath in and called out, "You idiot."

"Who's the idiot here?" she asked, willing herself not to get angry. He wasn't worth it. Never had been, never would be.

"Izumi," he said, because after their short stint as partners he never called her Orimoto again, "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Living here. You don't belong in a place like this."

"This is _my_ house," she whispered, deathly quiet. "If you wanted me to come with you, you shouldn't have left me behind."

KM was silent. Then he reached out his right hand to cup her cheek. "You're an idiot," he pronounced clearly. "I didn't want you to do this."

"Then why did you leave those instructions in your computer?"

"Because I knew you would do it anyway. It was - how should I say this? - an appropriate way to end things."

"I _loved_ you," she said, quietly.

"I know."

Izumi leaned back against the cold plaster wall and stared at him. Of course he knew. The name genius did have some meaning to it, after all. "You used me."

"Not purposefully. You let yourself be used."

"You're a manipulative bastard."

"So are you."

She stared at him in disbelief. "What did _I_ do?"

KM reached over and took hold of her long blond hair. His fingers gently twisted the locks into a corkscrew shape. "Manipulation, of course."

"That's just the dictionary definition."

"Would you like me to prove it?"

She nodded rather disinterestedly. "If I listen, will you leave?"

"That depends on you," KM replied, without missing a beat. He didn't sound very surprised at all, so Izumi wondered if she was just as predictable now as she used to be. It was a bitter thought. In the meantime, KM moved close and pressed pale fingertips against her mouth.

She bit down on her lower lip.

He considered the expression on her face like a particularly fascinated scientist before commenting, "This is the third time, you know."

She tilted her head questioningly.

His lips twitched slightly at her stubborn silence. "The third time I've _offered_ to let you come with me."

This time, Izumi did speak. "What's your point?"

"Why do you blame me for leaving you behind?"

"You only made those offers after everything was already said and done. Too little too late."

"Things haven't changed that much, Izumi."

"So?"

"So stubborn. Did you ever wonder what would happen if you just gave in?"

"That's a bad idea."

His voice was soft. "Says who?"

Izumi stared at him and grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him hard. A first for them, but it didn't last any longer than a second before she let go. There was no raised heartbeat, no nervous panting. Just a quiet feeling of conclusion.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" KM asked quietly. He walked to the door and pulled her along with him. It was still raining, so he took one of her umbrellas and yanked it open. She was tucked under his arm, staring out into the hazy atmosphere as they walked to the small black car parked against the curb. Almost as an afterthought, KM opened the door for her.

Izumi went in. All of her belongings, meager though they were, stayed in the house. She didn't even lock the door. Let the thieves have everything. It all belonged to a nonexistent woman anyway. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere close," he said. "What we call the heartland. San José is just the tip of the iceberg for people like us."

She smiled. "I've never been there."

"You haven't been to a lot of places."

"Not in person, anyway."

His shoulders shook. "The world is tiny when there's www in front of it."

"KM, you never did tell me why you were hunting Cherub down." She didn't care to make the subject change any smoother. He would catch up to her train of thought soon enough, anyways.

"Three years ago?"

"Almost."

"But you already found out, didn't you?"

"Of course. I said that you didn't _tell_ me. Not that I didn't know."

"So you want me to confirm the story? Go ahead."

"Cherub…You taught him how to hack. And then, before you let him learn anything else, you tested him. Made him break into the government database for his initiation."

"Sounds about right."

"Too bad it all went south from there, huh?"

"Yes, well. I didn't realize that he would go public with what he found. I'm a bad judge of character, remember? Even worse than you are."

"I…wish he didn't," she admitted. "Tell everyone about it, I mean."

"You finally looked at the files yourself, huh?"

"Why ask what you already know?"

"Logical progression. Is that the only reason that you left?"

"You know it isn't."

"I see." The relatively docile reaction was…surprising. She had assumed that KM would find the situation hilarious: a disillusioned government worker doing the same things she would have condemned only a few years ago. Maybe he understood her crisis of faith more than he let on. The thought was unbearably optimistic, but also unbearably plausible. After all, if the stories floating around on the net were true, loyalty to country wasn't a completely foreign concept to him. Neither was disappointment.

"Why did you help us hunt him down?" Izumi asked finally, staring out into the gray sky.

"It would have been pointless to let him go. He was my student. I had to take responsibility."

"You like taking responsibility, don't you?"

"It's the only way to make sure that nobody does anything stupid. Otherwise the community would have disappeared a long time ago."

"I thought you didn't care much about other people."

"Not in general, no."

"Is that why you came back for me?" Izumi nearly clapped her hands over her runaway mouth, horrified.

Kouji pulled into a dark alley and answered with unbelievable nonchalance, "No. I don't know." That, and nothing else.

"Oh," Izumi said softly, "I see. Hey, KM – or Kouji, I don't know which one you prefer – I have just one last question."

"Really? It's the _last_ question? Do I need a camera to commemorate this moment?"

"No, it's just for now. Sorry to disappoint."

"Shoot."

"The person you were talking about who could have been a leader without having to manipulate anyone…she used to be your partner, right?"

KM jerked slightly, and a strange pink hue flooded his cheeks, but not in embarrassment. Izumi privately wondered what kind of emotion it was, because she had never seen that particular expression before. "I'm surprised that you know that. Just where have you been getting your information, Izumi?"

"Trade secret. What happened?"

"Life."

"No, seriously."

"I am serious. Life happened."

"And that's not vague at all…Are you ever going to stop holding onto that grudge?"

"I don't hold grudges. It wasn't even her fault. Oh, you mean, am I ever going to give her leadership of the community?"

"Yeah. Since you don't even like being in charge of people. I know you don't."

"The problem is that I can't bring myself to leave. What's mine is mine. I don't like having other people dictate what I do."

"You don't like giving anything up, either," Izumi retorted wryly.

"No, I don't. Especially not to a petty institution like the government."

"A reminder, KM. It's hypocritical of you to be afraid of the government's influence in your community when you yourself…"

"I'm aware of that. Izumi?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever decide to contact that person again…"

"I probably will."

"I know. You can say hello, just don't say who you are. It took me a long time to figure out how to hack into the DNA lab equipment the first time around; I'm not looking forward to doing it again. Ever."

"Of course. Something like that…you don't have to tell me."

They stopped in front of a pastry shop. She ordered a lemon tart. He paid with a credit card that probably wasn't his, but probably wasn't stolen either. At least, not stolen by him. When they drove off, she asked, "You're not eating?"

"I'm not hungry."

Izumi held half of her tart in front of KM's eyes, blocking his view of the road until he took it into his mouth. After swallowing the sour treat, he grinned slightly. "Worried about me?"

"You can't die until you get me a new wardrobe."

"What's wrong with what you have on right now?"

"I can't wear this over and over."

"Then take it off."

"Not in public."

His eyes glittered dangerously, watching her chest rise and fall with each steady breath. "But in private?"

"Private being me and me alone? Sure."

"Oh, fine. There's a mall over there. Want to go?"

"After I get some sleep. Where do you live?"

"Here." The car dragged slightly, the back tire brushing against the curb. They were parked in front of an apartment complex with many floors, like a symmetrical vertical maze. The cream paint was strangely bright against the cool gray sky. It looked like a hotel, except with fewer windows. Despite the innocent facade, just walking up the stairs felt like a test of some sort, and not necessarily a legal one.

"What is this place?"

He took hold of her wrist and pulled her through the glass doors. His grip was deliberate and firm. "It belongs to a friend of mine. I called in a favor."

"A friend?" she repeated skeptically.

KM nearly smiled. "Don't expect to meet him. He almost never uses this property."

Their rooms were on the fourth floor. Izumi said conversationally, "Did you know that four is considered an unlucky number in Asia?"

"Hm?"

"It's practically their version of number thirteen."

KM looked at her and grinned slightly. "Okay. You can be Four then."

"Huh?"

"My newest name is Thirteen. You can be my Four."

"You're replacing the identity that I killed?"

"Yes. It wasn't very nice canceling that bank account, you know."

"Don't look at me. You're the one who can't get a proper security system up and running." The blond woman refused to face him. "What are you planning to do with me?'

"I'm going to declare war." He said it slowly and deliberately, satisfaction and anticipation fighting for dominance in his glittering blue eyes. Strange, that, because his lips were still pressed together into a frown.

She smiled briefly, wistfully. "For how long?"

"Not _forever_."

"Does that mean you don't know for sure?"

KM shrugged. "My first identity is dead, even online. I'm going to have to start all over. The only problem is that I've never done anything like this before, so it's going to be trial and error for a while. If we play the cards right, a civil war will divide everything – then bring it back together again."

"Making the community ripe for another leader. Convenient. You really like making plans, don't you?"

"It's a necessary evil."

"Hmmm," Izumi said musingly. "You're going to use me again, aren't you."

"Of course. You destroyed my computer. I can't make a new account unless someone invites me. That someone being you, of course."

"What if I refuse to invite you?"

"You won't," he said, with a note of finality, "because you want to watch me work."

Yes, of course - because hacking was practically an art form when he was behind the keyboard. Izumi laughed at how ridiculous the situation was, laughed at how accurate he was. There was only one thing holding her back from full-heartedly joining him on his crusade, but it was a very important thing. She had no desire to let history repeat itself. "After you get what you want, when are you leaving?"

Something soft and chilly lit up in his eyes. "When I leave. I'm only human, Izumi."

That…hurt, stung, and throbbed against her ribcage. Izumi sagged against the wall but didn't smack away the hands that reached around her hips almost comfortingly. "You never promise anything, do you?"

"Neither," he kissed her nose gently, "do you."

"You're worse, though."

"Very true. So why do you stay?"

"Why do _you_ leave?"

"My question first," he insisted gently.

She closed her eyes and willed herself not to fall into a boneless heap on the ground. "I don't know."

"So I see."

"And it's your fault," she insisted quietly, already losing the argument that wasn't really an argument to begin with.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for what? For killing her? For saving her? For letting himself die in a smoldering, lethal mixture of flames and methane gas? For not dying? She didn't know for sure, but it was probably a combination of all four. Complicated, yes, but he was always complicated.

"You shouldn't apologize," she told him. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Because you're never going to forgive me, right?"

She shrugged somewhat resignedly. "Do you even need to ask?"

"Just to clarify," he said quietly, "I don't hate you either."

"Of course not. We must be the most screwed up people on the planet." Izumi laughed again, trembling ever so slightly. "I bet that when I die, it'll be as a lonely woman."

His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly. "Only if I die first."


	7. Chapter 7

And now...it's all over. I might post brief omakus on Daily Conversations, but that's all.

Also, just because it's cliche that way...I am going to finally explain the title to you! Pure Coincidence is abbreviated as...dun dun dun...**PC**. Yep. That's where the entire story came from. My imagination is very, very overactive.

* * *

Guardian Angel

* * *

Ophan woke up at six o'clock on a Saturday morning like she usually did.

Outside, rays of sunlight were just barely peeping over the horizon line. Ophan was used to the sight after seeing it every morning going to work. When she thought of the piles of paperwork waiting for her at the government office, however, the blond woman turned off her pager and cell phone. Just this once, she refused to have any distractions.

It had been three years since that day. The explosion, the fire, the funeral, the everything, it was all seared into Ophan's memory. And why not? Why should she remember her first kiss, her first date, and not her first death?

It was a momentous occasion.

Just not a very festive one.

Was it ridiculous to think that she should have died instead of Izumi? Yes, yes it was. At least Cherub was behind bars, where he deserved to be. An objective stranger would have spent a few seconds applauding the sacrifice's bravery, and then forgotten her completely, but Ophan was nowhere close to an objective stranger. Orimoto Izumi. Was it really so easy to erase someone off the face of the planet?

Ophan rested her hands on the piles of paper waiting at the desk. She didn't know why she bothered to do something like this every year. Maybe because Izumi's family had smiled through their tears and said that they were _proud _of her.

Obviously, no one had told them what the girl had died for.

Ophan didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, either.

The scent of incense rose so pungently in the room that she had to cough several times. The sticks had been a gift from Izumi, a long time ago – almost five years, in fact. Ophan only ever used them on these anniversaries. It was pretty morbid, now that she thought about it…

Today was October something. She should have done this makeshift memorial two days ago to be completely accurate with the dates, but that had been a weekday and, well, Ophan didn't think it was appropriate to go to work and then try to remember a dead girl. Contradictory sentiments, perhaps.

With a grim little smile, Ophan watched the sun pull itself into the sky, where it promptly disappeared into the clouds. She figured that the rain would probably start up again by noon. She was right. Torrents of gusty gray dropped into the city streets right after her breakfast, and didn't let up for the rest of the day.

From the top drawer of her desk, Ophan took out a few worn out newspapers. Yet another thing that she would never understand about the media: their obsession with finding names for everything. Two weeks into the scandal, the newspapers were spending more time debating the possible headlines than debating the actual issues. Eventually, when news of Izumi's death surfaced on the internet, people finally agreed on the name Gamble. The Gamble Case. Why they chose that and nothing else, Ophan didn't have the faintest clue.

Gambling didn't even fit with what Izumi had been trying to do.

Kouji, on the other hand…

He would have done enough gambling for both of them. Enough to run Las Vegas for a day.

Why did people like him exist? Even worse, why did her government depend on people like him? And worst of all…why did a girl like Izumi have to suffer for the sake of people like him?

She was no closer to answering these questions than she had been three years ago.

Ophan was well aware of her former partner's charms. She was just as aware of his failings. But like a good worker, she had learned to bow her head low and ignore his presence when the superiors told her to. Izumi was different – she couldn't have possibly turned a blind eye to the twisted playground Kouji had made for himself. Ophan took complete responsibility for letting the girl go.

But it wasn't her fault. Not all of it, anyways.

Most of the blame was split between Kouji and the government itself. So, it was only fair that they suffered the most in the aftermath.

Even though Ophan didn't trust her own memory anymore, there were certain things that came to mind every now and then that sent chills down her spine. Nostalgic chills. She couldn't remember how many times he had subtly broken the law to get things done. She couldn't even remember the things he had done to break the law. No, there was none of that. Rather, the flashbacks came in the form of thin flashes of arrogant blue eyes. A left hand typing while the right toyed with a Rubik's cube. Piles and piles of paper on his desk. A ginger-toned voice saying, "You couldn't kill me if you tried." How ironic, Kouji…when everything exploded around you, did you still think that you were untouchable?

Ophan lifted her head and stared out the window. As if she could see him right in front of her, she declared, "I will never forgive you."

The room echoed the sound of rain. It drowned her voice out completely.

Something hard thumped against the door.

She rose up and peeked through the glass hole. A large man with a frayed black umbrella stood on her front porch, silhouetted by the flashes of thunder. Although Ophan opened the door for him willingly, she didn't move to let him in. "Shibayama."

"Ophan," he said wearily.

"Today's my off day."

"I'm sorry."

Ophan nearly laughed. "What is it this time?"

"Cherub reported in. Apparently, people in the community are beginning to move on."

"As expected," she sighed. With Kouji gone, things had been painfully quiet for the longest time. No premeditated strings of criminal activity at all. The man may have been extremely selective about his co-conspirators, but not a single one of them knew how to pull off their plans without him. Ophan wasn't the least bit surprised. It was perfectly typical of Kouji to make sure that everyone else depended on him.

"There's a new leader on the rise," Shibayama said. "Apparently, he doesn't trust Cherub, so…"

"We need someone else to cover for him?"

"Yes, unfortunately."

"I understand."

"I can talk to Sera, if you want. You haven't done this in a while – "

"I still remember."

Shibayama stared at her. "Things are different now. Ophan, please listen to me. The reason they chose to give this assignment to _you_…"

"My experience, right?"

His jaw rolled strangely under the skin of his face. "No, I mean…never mind. Be careful – "

"It's fine," Ophan retorted. Sounds from below caught her ear, so she glanced down at the ground. Shibayama was tapping his foot incessantly against the doormat and every step gave off a soft crinkling noise.

He seemed to think that she was trying to look away, which wasn't true. Mostly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ophan."

"Do you have any idea which person I should use?" she asked to his retreating back.

Shibayama looked at her from over the shoulder and called out his answer, but because of the rain, Ophan could only hear the splashing of water against cold, hard concrete. She shrugged to herself. It probably didn't matter anyways. Only moments after the yellow cab drove away, a chilly wind blasted through the area and forced her to go back inside.

Rain covered her entryway. Ophan took a mop out and ran it over the wet spots absentmindedly. Then she wiped the floor down with paper towels, leaving the soft material on top of the puddles to soak.

In the meantime, she got out a steel gray laptop and opened up a long list of links. Typewriter style lettering stretched over her screen like an array of black fireworks, gently prodding her back into business mode. Even though she had planned for a peaceful day spent in Izumi's memory, Ophan didn't mind the interruption all that much. Work first. Work always came first.

So, who should she be today?

Kaoru. No, that girl was too much of a ditz.

Mina? Hm…She had little more potential, but there had to be someone better.

Lola. Unfortunately, Ophan's impersonation skills were rusty after taking such a long hiatus, so she didn't want to risk dropping a psuedo-foreign accent at the wrong time. It had happened before in the aftermath of the last scandal, when she had been too upset to concentrate fully on work. Ophan knew her own limits.

Mon. More of a challenge than either of the first two, but not quite as bad as the third. She had never used a male identity before, but now was as good a time as any to start. Plus, there was the convenient little fact that no one on the hacker forums listed their gender. If people began to suspect, she could always switch back to being female. Finally decided, Ophan pulled open the inner cabinet with the heel of her foot. A long, glistening pile of laminated papers lined the inside.

Ophan took out the appropriate files along with a small camera. The cord wouldn't connect properly to the computer, so she cleared the memory disk and set the tiny eyepiece in front of the screen.

A large pile of emails littered her inbox, most of them details on her assignment. Ophan scanned them quickly, barely pausing to look at the list of forum regulars. Still, she spent enough time gathering information to find the name of her supposed target on a short email several hours old. Or, rather, the _names_.

Apparently, this particular hacker used two different aliases, both named after numbers. Ophan opened up the accompanying email attachment to find a weeklong chat log. It was literally hundreds of pages long, but she tried to concentrate on the stretches of conversation that included Four or Thirteen. Almost immediately, she realized that the two accounts were never active at the same time. They did, however, reply to each other on occasion. And when they did, there was no indication whatsoever that they knew more than they should. Smart.

Neither name, however, showed up when she went through the online member lists. Someone had blocked both Four and Thirteen from showing up on the search engine.

Ophan found herself almost approving of this anonymous hacker. Given enough time, he definitely had enough skill to bring the community back to life. If it had been up to _her_, she would have left him alone.

Well, never mind. It wasn't any of her business.

As for her assignment…

It might be better to pretend ignorance at first. People usually offered up more information that way…a very convenient aspect of group psychology. 'Always be nice to the newbie.' Just learning how to hack did not necessarily make someone an exception to that rule, so there was bound to be at least one person on the boards worth pumping for information. Too bad for them. They should have been more careful.

Of course, as with all things related to psychology, there were exceptions. People could be completely and totally paranoid without ever doing a bit of hacking in their lives. Kouji had been proof of that. Had been.

Back in the old days. The government had been better about keeping secrets then…

Funny how she never once assumed that her employer was actually innocent. Funny how she didn't care. Kouji must have cared, though. Or was it just an excuse to turn his back on everyone? Ophan didn't want to think about it anymore. She felt old and tired of theories, like her heart was crawling to find a safe place to sleep, preferably for a long, long time.

Apparently, it was harder to hate people when they were nothing more than ghosts.

This much…this much she could accept. It was her fault that Kouji left the government when he did, even if someone else had been pulling the strings at the time.

Salty.

Great, now she was crying.

Kouji's fault, again, for making a river of tears to follow his footsteps. Even before his abrupt departure, the man had never been good at sustaining healthy, steady relationships. Ophan could look back on those days with a critical, objective eye when she was in the right mood – and she didn't like what she saw. How could she have possibly missed the steadily growing population of girls that avoided her partner at work? Then again…he had never been interested in _her_, so it wasn't so much of a surprise that she never noticed.

Ophan remembered the one time he had ever confided in her – the man was notoriously private – they had been at a bar, or at someone's dinner party, or something like that. People in the background were laughing, talking, singing, dancing, telling jokes, while Kouji turned to her with a soft, soft smile and said, "I'm kind of jealous." And when she asked why with a puzzled frown, he replied shortly, "Because they're all happy for you."

Three weeks later, Ophan got her first promotion at work. She never saw it coming. She was the only one.

Ophan still considered those days the happiest of her life, probably because they had been the calm before the storm.

It didn't seem fair to have to read the investigation reports, or the forensic analyses, or the hazardous explosives inquiries when both victims had once been her friends. The little scraps of evidence left at the crime scene were all perfectly conclusive, wrapped up in a tight, neat bundle like some kind of gruesome birthday present. It hurt to read about real people in terms of DNA samples and shrapnel when she knew from personal experience that they were so much more than that.

Whether they deserved their fates or not was completely irrelevant.

Ophan sighed and leaned on the side of her living room's armchair. The soft, gray fabric brushed up against her hair and mashed the ponytail against her skull uncomfortably. She pulled the rubber band out without moving anything but her right hand. A few thin strands of hair were lost in the process, but she ignored the stinging sensation on her scalp in favor of staring remotely at the torn locks.

As distracted as Ophan was, it took a while to notice the long list of replies that suddenly stacked up on her screen. She blinked in surprise, then frantically called her concentration back.

_A new face! Not something you see everyday. _

Ophan typed out a similar greeting with unsteady hands. There was always the element of uncertainty when it came to things like this. Hacker protocol had been very different seven years ago, at the peak of her career. The community had been more single-minded back then, less sociable. Now, there was something wary and energetic bouncing just under the surface like a busy worker bee. She figured that it was probably Kouji's influence. Even after death, he held so much power that it was frightening.

_You're one of the others._

_No, I doubt it._

_Really? But I thought so too. It fits the profile._

_Tell the hummer!_

_Don't you mean the hammer? Check your spelling every once in a while, Rana! Seriously. _

Hammer. Was Shibayama's alter ego still active? Suddenly suspicious, Ophan opened another browser window to check his old profile. Nothing. No visits, no posts – absolutely nothing since the day Kouji left them for good. She would have hacked in to check for signs of tampering, but now was not the time. Now was not the time, but she did it anyway. Three minutes later, looking at his account history, she confirmed that it was true. And what a satisfying truth it was. After all, the only thing stopping him from returning was his own guilt. It was enough.

_What's to think about?_

_The hell are you saying? Do you not understand the meaning of SOS?_

_Tomo! He's active, does anybody else see that?_

That particular message left her with a chill. Apparently, the moderators had taken up shift changes, because she couldn't remember the last time Tomorrow had been active this early in the day.

Perhaps it was a biased perspective to have, though. Ophan had no idea what Kouji's former second-in-command was really like. For all she knew, Tomorrow could be a sweet, mellow child who just happened to have his loyalty in the wrong place.

So many people spilled into the thread that Ophan had to spend most of her time scrolling down. Even worse, some of the comments didn't make any sense at all – like someone was just cutting and pasting miscellaneous newspaper quotes that had nothing to do with each other. She felt somewhat out of her depth. What was the point to sending her back to the community if she couldn't figure any of it out anymore? Not for the first time, she questioned Sera's judgment in delegating assignments out to people. Sometimes, it felt like he was sacrificing them…

_Entertaining._

_Did you see it?_

_Runner, coming up. Ain't life just a bitch sometimes?_

_Who are you talking to?_

_Him, did you move?_

_Leave it alone._

_Tomo! Listen to me when I'm talking to you._

_Has anyone seen the news?_

_It's not an issue anymore. _

_Hot spot, guys. Quarter up._

_Geez, my poor eyes...This place is seriously a mess. I'm going back._

_Bring some popcorn with you, then. Does anyone need to fold?_

_Where's Tomo?_

_I told you already, use my full name! They're coming. Don't worry!_

Tomorrow. She read his post slowly, over and over, because he was almost never literal...almost. And then, finally, the infamous 'leader' joined the party. Ophan saw the name Four light up briefly on the active users list, so she waited with bated breath and an overwhelming sense of bewilderment to see what the newcomer would do.

Five minutes later, lodged in the middle of the nonsensical conversation that clogged up the thread, a simple message appeared.

_Hello, Ophan_.

Damn. It really, really figured. When dealing with people who broke laws for a living, you couldn't expect any privacy.


End file.
